AN autobiography by a political leader who is still in office remains an unusual phenomenon and one fraught with risks. Thanks to leaks and press interviews, President Musharraf’s autobiography has become quite a sensation, something that must have allowed the publishers to laugh all the way to the bank.

The excitement is not merely because the author is the army chief and Pakistan’s head of state — and very much in the saddle. He is also a major player in the global war on terror, a committed ally of the US and a self-proclaimed advocate of a new philosophy of engagement with the West, known as “enlightened moderation”. Gen Musharraf, known as a man of action and an advocate of striking hard and striking early, has chosen not to wait for retirement before sharing with readers his life’s experiences and observations on unfolding events and personalities still occupying centre-stage.

His friends argue that there is nothing wrong about the candour with which he has spoken on some of the most complex issues. But apart from the consideration of the Official Secrets Act, such a practice goes against generally acknowledged norms, where some passage of time is considered essential both for the sake of objectivity and to save persons and nations from embarrassment. There is thus no doubt that the book has opened a virtual Pandora’s box and the general should not be surprised if the demons that he has unleashed come to haunt him.

Now for some specific issues, especially those that appear to have caused a storm of protest. The first that created a media frenzy in the United States was the president’s claim that the American message delivered by former deputy secretary of state, Richard Armitage, in the wake of 9/11, was rude and insulting, for it threatened “to bomb Pakistan back to the stone age”. Armitage denies ever having made such a threat, though he admits having delivered a tough and uncompromising message to DG ISI, Gen Mahmood, who was then in Washington.

From the many years spent in the US, I do know that Americans can be tough, but not rude or insulting. Bob Woodward, whose book, Bush at War, on the invasion of Afghanistan was written with the support and approval of the Bush administration, does not mention it either.

The president, however, argues that he was not persuaded to change policies because of Armitage’s threat or because he believed in the “war on terror”, but because of the sobering result of a “war game” that he organised to determine if Pakistan could withstand US attacks. While I have no pretensions to expertise in military strategy, I can state with little fear of contradiction that it requires no war game, nor a military genius, to recognise that any conflict with the US would be disastrous for Pakistan. But the point made by critics is not about the language of the American threat, or even the decision taken by Islamabad. Even with the benefit of hindsight, it cannot be denied that strategically we took the right decision.

The reservation expressed by some is over the manner in which Pakistan arrived at the decision. What one questions is the haste and indignity with which positions and policies of years were abandoned. What one wants is more information about what efforts, if any, were made to ensure that Pakistan’s core interests were understood and appreciated by the Americans. In any case, what purpose does this revelation serve, other than to confirm the impression that we abandoned our policy not because we believed in the change, but because having war-gamed the US as an adversary, we came to the conclusion that there was no other option available to us?

In defence of the president, however, it has to be recalled that on September 12, 2001, Pakistan was truly an isolated country and its regime ostracised by the international community, thanks to the opprobrium earned for having ousted an elected, democratic government and for the patronage extended to the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. If anything, Pakistan’s U-turn in the face of American threats also reveals the inherent weakness of an authoritative regime, as compared to an elected government. While the latter can always point to the constitutional requirement of consultation with the cabinet and parliament in the face of threats or ultimatums (as in the case of US pressure during the time of the nuclear tests), and use these as protective walls, an authoritative regime has no such protection and the leader is left exposed.

This was amply demonstrated when the US demanded approval from Ankara for its troops to march through Turkey for the invasion of Iraq. The Turkish prime minister never said yes and he never said no. Instead, he pointed out that he would have to respect the wishes of parliament, which not surprisingly, rejected the American demand, much to the chagrin of the then US deputy defence secretary, Paul Wolfowitz, who was constrained to publicly lament the end of the military’s influence in Turkey.

On relations with India, the book recalls the Agra summit, with the president hinting that it would have been a success but for the machinations of L.K. Advani, whose attitude, in the words of the author, “humiliated” both Atal Behari Vajpayee and himself. This reference to Vajpayee’s humiliation is not likely to be well received by the BJP leadership. Advani remains an influential politician whose return to power cannot be ruled out. In any case, such disclosures are likely to make the current Indian leadership wary of entering into confidential exchanges with the president.

The Kargil episode, understandably, occupies a central position in the book, with the author claiming not only that it was “a landmark in the history of the Pakistan army”, but that the army actually succeeded in achieving the objectives set out for it. While the brilliance of this adventure can only be judged by those well-versed in military science, it is wrong to claim that Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif’s decision to accept President Clinton’s offer to bring an end to the conflict denied Pakistan a victory. This is not in consonance with the facts. I know that the decision to travel to Washington was made in consultation with the military leadership as well as with prominent members of the cabinet who all felt that it was US intervention alone that could save Pakistan from a major disaster that was looming on the horizon.

It is also presumptuous to state that “whatever movement has taken place so far in the direction of finding a solution in Kashmir is owed considerably to the Kargil conflict”. If anything, Kargil weakened Pakistan’s position on Kashmir, while projecting the Pakistani leadership as irresponsible and immature, leaving even traditional friends aghast at the scale of our folly. This was all the more tragic because immediately after the nuclearisation of South Asia, the foreign office had recommended to the leadership that a more mature and responsible policy be followed and provocations and adventures of all kind eschewed, as the international community could not countenance irresponsible behaviour from a state possessing nuclear weapons. In fact, with the Kargil adventure, Pakistan played right into the hands of India that was able to project the country as irresponsible and dangerous and not worthy of being treated as a responsible nuclear weapons state.

It would also be pertinent to point out that it was with great skill and resolve that after the nuclear tests the Nawaz Sharif government had succeeded in convincing the US and the major powers that both India and Pakistan should be treated at par on the issue of nuclear weapons. It was in view of this that the Clinton administration, in the face of domestic criticism, had agreed to comprehensive negotiations with both India and Pakistan separately, but on the basis of equality.

Islamabad had also received the assurance that any advantage or status given to India would be extended to Pakistan as well. It was however, in the wake of the Kargil disaster that our critics were able to convince the US that India and Pakistan had to be treated differently. This painful fact was driven home to us in March this year when President Bush rejected our request for nuclear reactors that are to be provided to India, stating with brutal frankness that India and Pakistan were “two different countries with two different histories”. Of course, the allegations of proliferation did not help our case either. But equally important is the fact that it was only because of Kargil that Delhi was able to persuade the major powers that the Kashmiris fighting for their self-determination should be viewed as “terrorists”.

Dr A.Q. Khan and his alleged activities figure prominently in the book as well. Whatever the good doctor’s faults, there is no denying that it was his leadership and genius that played a critical role in our nuclear weapon programme. Having already provided all available evidence to the IAEA and the US, what purpose can be served by going over the whole episode as if we were ourselves engaged in the preparation of a charge sheet against our scientists? Washington and its allies have not reconciled themselves to our nuclear weapons programme. Repeated reference to allegations concerning this will provides Pakistan’s detractors with a convenient tool to act against the country’s interest.

General Musharraf makes much of his claim that he is a liberal democrat and that he genuinely believes in the supremacy of democratic institutions. Sadly, his policies during the past seven years do not support this contention. Is there any system, democratic or authoritarian, that allows the army chief to involve himself in the establishment of a political party and then to run its affairs? Would this same privilege be available to others in the service of the state who are no less patriotic? If he is genuinely a liberal, what prevented him from doing away with all the retrogressive laws that remain an odious legacy of the Zia regime?

Not surprisingly, the book has attracted much flak from both officials and private citizens. This barrage of criticism would have upset most people, but as the general states in his book, he is made of sterner stuff and is not one to let the views of others upset him. As he claims, he has always confronted issues and personalities head on. Sensitivity and subtlety he associates with weakness and prevarication.

The intricacies of diplomacy are alien to him. He believes in speaking his mind and battling through difficulties, rather than thinking through them. This may be commendable in an individual but seriously problematic in the leader of a country.

The writer is a former ambassador.

THAT the Indian government’s nominee for the post of UN secretary-general had to withdraw from the contest does not come as a surprise. The unkindest cut was the “no” from the United States, a country which we have been trying to woo and going out of the way in order to do so.

Shashi Tharoor was never a winning candidate. He was not tall enough in Asia, much less in the world, to deserve the post. An eminent person, even a former minister, would have gone down better. When even the Sri Lankan candidate withdraws in favour of the South Korean nominee, the entire foreign policy has a question mark against it. If this incident makes us ponder over our policy on how to improve relations with other countries, it is probably a good jolt.

Our eight per cent economic growth has sent us soaring to the skies. We consider ourselves a global power when our feet should have been firmly planted on the ground. A country where half the population goes to bed without food cannot gloat over its limited achievements.

We are making no impression in the international field because of our arrogance. We have a superiority complex when we deal with countries next door to us or with comparatively less affluent nations. Our prestige was high when we emerged from 150 years of slavery. Foreign countries looked at us with awe because we had freed ourselves from the mighty British without firing a shot. Our biggest asset was our humility. That is lessening rapidly. Even if we had been a developed nation, we would have not gone far regarding our obsession with “spectacular growth.” Both politicians and bureaucrats throw the “eight per cent growth” at every international meet when they are in a tight corner or fail to make a point.

In a way, we are trying to become an America in the region, behaviour-wise and development-wise. Like Washington, we talk at other countries, not to them. I am not referring to our dealings with Pakistan which itself is an intransigent country, nor about Bangladesh which is chaotically fundamentalist. I have in mind the South Asian and African countries with which we are developing economic relations. Why is there no emphasis on cultural or other ties? This could help us fight against western culture consumerism. India has a long tradition of people-to-people contact. But our government is only particular about business delegations. The rest are way down. We have been slipping down in international esteem for some time. But the worst period has been since our proximity with America. We have been so focused on the Indo-US nuclear agreement that we are oblivious to other things. In our anxiety to clinch it, we have even tilted towards America, knowing well that friendship would mean dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s at Washington’s bidding. True, we need nuclear energy but not at the cost of our dignity.

The manner in which America, particularly the State Department, has tried to impose certain conditions shows that Washington seeks supplicants, not friends. They come heavy when they are dealing with a democratic country. I have my doubts on the treaty emerging unscathed from the US Congress. It is the result of what the State Department has whispered into the ears of senators and congressmen. The State Department wants its pound of flesh in terms of concessions on recycling used fuel. New Delhi has its own interests to guard.

But American pressure is nothing new. I recall how India was treated in the early fifties when it requested the US for food-grains. The US Congress dawdled over the bill for months, knowing well that thousands of Indians were on the verge of starvation. The recent NAM conference, even though not relevant in the old sense, was our best opportunity. Yet we gave no thought to how to go about implementing the spirit of the movement which Jawaharlal Nehru had started to stay non-aligned. A meeting of 160-odd countries at Havana could have set in motion something special for the protection and development of small countries. Many looked towards us for guidance. But our eyes were fixed on the nuclear agreement discussed at Washington.

This is not because we do not have a full-time foreign minister. This is because we have no foreign policy. There is ad hocism and the absence of long-term thinking. Conditions have changed since the days of Nehru. But we pursue the same old policies which gave good results during the Cold War, but not 35 years later.

When we fail to make even Sri Lanka or Nepal our close friends, there must be something basically wrong with our policies and we need to think afresh. Nehru, Lal Bahadur Shastri and even Indira Gandhi appointed public men as envoys in leading countries and in the neighbourhood. Washington, Moscow, London and Beijing were closed to bureaucrats. Similarly, Pakistan, Nepal and Sri Lanka had tall men from India. These were sensitive posts, requiring non-official appraisal.

The Sonia Gandhi-Manmohan Singh nexus has only retired bureaucrats for such posts and their terms are being extended, not because they are outstanding, but because they have someone at New Delhi to back them. A new foreign secretary cannot usher in a new foreign policy but Shiv Shankar Menon has in him the qualities to push through new ideas, new avenues and new ways of accommodation. But what can he do when our foreign policy is politicised?

By not rebutting President General Pervez Musharraf’s claim that Pakistan won at Kargil, the Manmohan Singh government has played politics. The credit of repulsing the Mujahideen, along with the Pakistan forces, and clearing the Kargil heights goes to the Vajpayee-led coalition. The Congress and its allies kept quiet at that time, just as they have done now after Musharraf’s claim of victory in his book In the Line of Fire.

The army chief at that time, General V.P. Malik, has taken up the matter with the government. He wants a “systematic rebuttal” to be issued at the highest level by the government. He feels disappointed that it is not forthcoming. “We have become so reactive that we cannot protect our own strategic achievements. I can’t let this man get away with the things he has claimed in his book,” says Malik.

The general has a point. But he should know that an all-party meeting after the ceasefire fell through because the opposition then thought that the Vajpayee-led government would take the credit. Little did they realise that the credit was that of the army. Such an approach is suicidal for a country’s foreign policy which draws strength from bipartisan support.

The writer is a leading columnist based in New Delhi.