Close to civil war?
MILITIAS may not be fighting each other but Iraq is teetering on the brink of civil war, with an alarming rise in killings and kidnappings. The reconciliation plan unveiled the other day by Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki has drawn severe criticism from both Shia and Sunni groups and American politicians. The 24-point plan makes no mention of a possible schedule for the withdrawal of the US-led forces. Critics say that this will strengthen the resistance, which will find a reason for continuing its activity. The plan to give amnesty to suspected guerrillas has drawn opposition from Shia circles who say this could set free Saddam loyalists who had committed crimes against the Iraqi people. US Congressmen also feel amnesty will exonerate those involved in the killing of American soldiers and civilians. The group loyal to Shia cleric Moqtada al-Sadr has partly welcomed the plan but said that, instead of merely barring Baathists from government jobs, the Maliki scheme should have provided for tougher sanctions against them and included the release of those belonging to the Army of Mehdi. The reconciliation plan has ruled out talks with Al Qaeda — a move strongly criticised by Vice President Tareq al-Hashmi, whose Sunni Iraqi Islamic Party, like the al-Sadr group, is part of the ruling coalition. In his view, national reconciliation cannot be achieved if some groups are left out of the process. He also believes that the Maliki plan has failed to curb “Shia and Kurdish extremism”.
Given the rapidly deteriorating law and order situation, it remains to be seen whether the reconciliation formula will achieve its objectives. Kidnappings have reached a new high. Monday saw 10 students kidnapped. Last week, gunmen abducted 60 persons working at a government-owned factory. On Sunday, 16 people were kidnapped from a science research centre north of Baghdad. And in the first week of this month, 50 employees of long-distance bus companies were taken hostage. The terror campaign of this kind has led to a new phenomenon: internal refugees. People are fleeing homes and, so far, 130,000 people have registered themselves as internal refugees, seeking state aid. This figure excludes those who have not sought government help. Their numbers are rising because the national coalition government is unable to stem the rising tide of violence. The new security force being raised and trained by the Americans not only does not enjoy the people’s trust, the resistance regards it as a collaborator and has been targeting its training and recruitment centres.
Regrettably, Washington has dashed all hopes of a pull-out by rejecting the withdrawal plan prepared by the American commander in Iraq, Gen George Casey, with President George Bush saying that any recommendation by the general would be “aimed at victory”. What victory the Bush administration has in mind is not clear. The US death toll has crossed the 2,500 figure, and given the intensity of the resistance, it is likely to go up. In fact, Mosab al-Zarqawi’s death does not seem to have made much difference to the situation, and the resistance appears to be as strong as ever. More than three years after the fall of the Baathist regime, Iraq has neither peace nor freedom — the two objectives for which America launched its war on Iraq. A continuation of the occupation will only prolong Iraq’s agony and increase the number of body bags reaching America.
Form without substance
PRIME Minister Shaukat Aziz was stressing the obvious when he said that Pakistan had all the essential elements of democracy. In this context, he pointed to a “sovereign parliament”, an “active opposition”, “unrestricted political activity”, a “free press”, an “independent judiciary” and “good governance through transparency and accountability” which he claims Pakistan possesses. Admittedly, all the institutions listed do exist but they are not functioning as efficiently and effectively as Mr Shaukat Aziz would have us believe. The fact is that Pakistan’s democracy is quite dysfunctional and because of that it does not inspire confidence in its future. The basic elements that are the hallmark of a democracy — an in-built mechanism of accountability and an electoral system which enables the voters to unseat a government for its failure to deliver on its promises — are missing in our case. Even the other institutions, such as the parliament, the press and the opposition, can hardly play the role assigned to them in a thriving democracy. The performance of the National Assembly and the provincial assemblies leaves much to be desired. In the last five decades these bodies have not been in existence for long periods or when they have been there, they have often acted as rubberstamps of despots. Even though the press is technically free at present, journalists are often intimidated — and even killed — to silence them on vital issues. In the absence of a culture of tolerance in which dissent is accepted as an integral part of democratic traditions, the opposition has not had a smooth sailing.
The question still remains why our democratic system has failed to strike root over the years. The basic reason is the frequent intervention of the military in the country’s politics. By preventing the continuity of constitutional rule, it has also retarded the growth and development of a strong party system. Democracy is something which grows over a period of time and develops corrective mechanisms of its own, making its working subject to checks and balances so that the system does not become impervious to majority opinion in society. When the democratic process is interrupted again and again by men in uniform, it is not surprising that our political system has failed to provide the country with a stable and responsible form of representative government.
Curbing spread of Aids
RESULTS of a recently conducted survey on HIV/Aids in Sindh have revealed some startling trends that should serve as a wake-up call for authorities who do not believe that the disease poses a serious health risk. Given that this detailed survey is apparently the first of its kind, its findings should prove helpful for the authorities in formulating strategies that can curtail the spread of the deadly disease. Determining the extent of the problem or ascertaining the exact number of HIV/Aids patients has always proved to be difficult given the stigma attached to Aids. The survey was conducted among high-risk groups, and its detailed findings point to just how poorly informed these groups are on the dangers of unprotected sex and unsafe needle use. Out of the sex workers surveyed in Karachi, for example, it was found that eight per cent of male sex workers and three per cent of both female and eunuch sex workers were HIV positive. The results among drug users are equally depressing: 78 per cent of injection drug users (IDUs) in Sukkur resort to this mode of addiction two to three times a day. That a relatively high percentage of sex workers and IDUs are married is also worrying for it shows the dangers they pose to their partners and, in the case of women, their children. Close to 50 per cent of sex workers in Karachi are unaware that condoms provide protection against HIV/Aids.
The government would be wise to ask other provincial Aids control programmes to conduct similar surveys to ascertain the magnitude of the problem in their respective areas. It cannot afford to remain complacent on the issue. The number of HIV/Aids patients is said to be 100,000, but if awareness campaigns are not aggressively pursued, the number will rise. This must be avoided at all costs.
Regime change in Mogadishu
APOLOGISTS for the pre-eminent global superpower frequently complain that the object of their allegiance all too often attracts unfavourable publicity even when it does a good deed. Ask them for an example and they’ll invariably conjure up images so riddled with subjectivity that any resemblance to real events turns out to be purely coincidental. There are, however, exceptions. And one of these has unexpectedly reared its head in the Horn of Africa.
It ought to be acknowledged that the United States of America has played a positive role in the return of a semblance of sanity to the Somali capital, Mogadishu. It has done so indirectly and — surprise, surprise — inadvertently.
The US has long looked upon Somalia — the ultimate failed state in Africa, which has had no functioning central government since Mohammed Siad Barre was toppled in 1991 — as a likely hideout for Al Qaeda operatives, particularly those associated with acts of terrorism in East Africa. Somalia’s proximity to Yemen has helped to reinforce that impression, leading to the assumption that Islamist elements in Somalia must necessarily have some links with Al Qaeda.
This may not be an entirely spurious line of thinking, but the manner in which the US chose to pre-empt any possible threat serves as yet another reminder of its unwillingness or inability to draw logical conclusions from its previous mistakes. In this case, it chose to align itself with the so-called warlords who had made life a misery for Somalis since the early 1990s and therefore inspired a visceral hatred among their compatriots.
If you’ll excuse a brief digression, it’s probably worth noting that the term “warlord” is more or less exclusively reserved for factional military commanders in lands that are generally deemed to have been denied the blessings of civilisation. Such usage gives rise to the suspicion that there are racist connotations embedded in the term. Its dictionary definition is “a commander or commander-in-chief, especially where and when the military power is great (now usually derogatory)”. In my opinion, the word’s descriptive utility can triumph over any offensive implications, provided it is used in a non-discriminatory manner. That, of course, involves acknowledging that the Grand Poo-Bah of all warlords resides in the White House. It has been reported that the CIA surreptitiously funnelled funds — and quite possibly weapons — to the “secular” warlords, who had styled themselves as the Alliance for the Restoration of Peace and Counter-Terrorism. The nomenclature was widely seen as a marketing ploy. The US has neither confirmed nor denied the allegations, but officials who refused to be identified have, in conversations with media outlets such as The Washington Post and The New York Times, admitted American attempts to tackle Al Qaeda suspects without direct involvement in the nitty-gritty.
The hands-off approach wasn’t a nod to local sensitivities, nor the consequence of a lack of resources: 1,600 US troops are based in neighbouring Djibouti. However, the last time the US intervened directly in Somalia back in 1993, it lost two Black Hawk helicopters and 18 servicemen (it was alleged at one time that Osama bin Laden had a hand in the incident). Almost immediately afterwards, Bill Clinton withdrew all American troops; a year later, the United Nations, too, decided to leave Somalia to its fate.
Reports suggest that not all American officials were complacent about their government’s strategy: those familiar with the region realised that bankrolling the warlords would prove extremely unpopular with Somalis in general, and could well encourage the growth of Islamic fundamentalism. However, their warnings about the likelihood of counterproductive consequences went unheeded, and one of them was even transferred from the US embassy in Nairobi — which also happens to be home to the relevant CIA station. The available evidence suggests that the State Department was broadly at cross-purposes with the CIA and the Pentagon.
According to Aini Abukar Ga’al, a human rights officer for the Coalition of Grassroots Women’s Organisations in Mogadishu, “The warlords made it very clear that they had taken money from the US and that they were looking for Al Qaeda suspects on America’s behalf. This immediately gave birth to a popular insurrection against them. Ordinary people helped by blocking the roads, and even using their own weapons to fight. It’s what we’ve been dreaming of for so long.”
At the helm of the insurrection was an organisation that until last week was called Islamic Courts Union (ICU). The warlords fled, and American analysts were left wondering whether this outcome was the worst of all possible scenarios as far as their government’s efforts were concerned. The overwhelming majority of Mogadishu residents, on the other hand, were more than relieved by the ouster of the warlords: they were positively jubilant.
This jubilation cannot be interpreted as support for a potential Islamist agenda: it was simply a reaction to the fact that ordinary people could get about in the Somali capital without fear of violence, extortion or rape. The hired bodyguards that almost everyone — even taxi drivers — relied on for protection were suddenly no longer necessary. Sudden bursts of random gunfire ceased. Mogadishu hasn’t been so “normal” in 15 years.
The obvious question now, of course, is whether the relative calm can last, or will the debilitating anarchy of yesteryear return — within days, weeks or months? Almost equally pertinent is the extent to which the Islamists intend to enforce the shariat.
The ICU evolved from Islamic courts set up in Mogadishu by clans and sub-clans as a means of establishing law and order in sections of the city. They evidently proved remarkably successful, and therefore extremely popular even among those Somalis who weren’t particularly enamoured of Islamic laws.
The reports out of Mogadishu on this matter have been contradictory, but one development late last week could turn out to be a viable cause for concern. Since its inception in 2004, the ICU had been chaired by Sheikh Sharif Ahmed, a former schoolteacher who became an activist after one of his students was kidnapped by a warlord-associated militia. He reputedly adheres to Sufi teachings, and his statements after the ICU established control over Mogadishu on June 5 were remarkably conciliatory, maintaining that the union’s primary aim was to establish peace rather than an Islamist state.
A BBC report described him as “a youthful-looking leader” who “maintains a modest appearance, dressing simply in a long-sleeved Pakistani-style shirt and a pair of trousers which do not reach his ankles and cheap sandals” — which points to a tablighi-like sartorial sense, although it would be unfair to read too much into that.
The US was more concerned about Sheikh Hassan Dahir Aweys, who heads one of the 11 courts that made up the ICU and was once chief of the now defunct Al Itihaad Al Islamiya, an organisation linked to Al Qaeda (at least in the American imagination), a background that earned him a place on Washington’s list of terrorist suspects. Last Friday it was announced that the ICU had been replaced with the Council of the Islamic Courts, with Aweys taking over from Ahmed as its chairman.
The inner dynamics of the renamed council, and thereby the implications of this change, are largely a mystery to observers outside Somalia: it does seem provocative, but that could turn out to be a superficial view. Some analysts have predictably compared the situation in Mogadishu with the Taliban conquest of Kabul more than a decade ago, which was initially welcomed by many Afghans because it spelt an end to the anarchy unleashed by the Mujahideen. That isn’t a ridiculous parallel, but the temptation to jump to conclusions ought to be avoided.
The erstwhile ICU was quick to enter into negotiations with the transitional Somali government that was established in 2004, but has hitherto exercised little influence over the nation’s affairs; although ostensibly based in Baidoa, some 200km north of Mogadishu, its leaders — President Abdullah Yusuf and Prime Minister Ali Mohammed Ghedi — live in Nairobi. Both of them have been somewhat ambivalent about the Islamist takeover, initially welcoming it but subsequently combining their enthusiasm with reservations.
Yusuf, himself a warlord, apparently enjoys the support of Ethiopia, which is wary of the prospect of an Islamist neighbour. The transitional government, which is supported by the African Union (AU), has been keen on introducing foreign (chiefly Ethiopian) peacekeepers — an idea that is anathema to the Islamists and, it seems, to most other Somalis as well. It is rumoured that the Islamists are supported by Eritrea, Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states.
It is quite conceivable that the respite Somalis have gained could turn out to be ephemeral. The shape of the future is contingent on a host of imponderables, including the intentions of the Islamists and the attitude of Ethiopia, the AU and, not least, the US — the unintended consequences of whose actions have created a chance for peace. It is a chance that ought not to be squandered. That’s mainly up to the Somalis, who constitute an unusually coherent nation in terms of ethnicity and religion, riven only by rival clans. The rest of Africa (and other interested parties) can help by facilitating negotiations. The worst possible step at this juncture would be any sort of armed intervention, which would be likely to set Somalia back at least 15 years.




























