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| October 15, 2006 | Sunday | Ramazan 21, 1427 |
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An honour for South Asia
Car thefts in Karachi
The truth about the Kargil episode
WE now have two clearly delineated and mutually dismissive versions of the Kargil episode — a controversial as well as painful saga of our history. Any attempt to jump into the fray would only distract the focus of history on this issue and also aggravate the controversy and further compound the “mystery.” But after President Musharraf’s book, ‘In the Line of Fire’, the Kargil episode is no longer a mystery.
THE news from the India-Pakistan dialogue front is encouraging. The two countries have decided to revive their talks which have been stalled since July when bomb blasts in Mumbai led to horrific loss of life. New Delhi called off the next round of talks as a mark of protest against Islamabad because the Indians believed that Pakistan was involved in this act of terrorism. It is good that India has now agreed to revive the talks even though the Mumbai mystery has yet to be resolved as far as Pakistan is concerned. As the two sides prepare for the opening of the peace talks — the date will be announced shortly — the Indian prime minister has made a timely comment on the format of the dialogue. His offer to talk about Jammu and Kashmir with Pakistan, but not publicly, makes good sense. History has shown that where two adversaries have negotiated on sensitive matters, it has proved to be unwise to do so in the glare of the media. In fact, the more sensitive the issue and the greater the give-and-take involved, discretion demands that no public discussion is encouraged until the talks are over and an agreement has been reached.
If one recalls the Oslo process that brought the Palestinians and the Israelis to the negotiating table, one would find its most notable aspect was the secrecy that was observed in the Norwegian capital where leaders from the two sides met to get the epoch-making talks started. There are other examples of how countries not even on speaking terms managed to open talks and reach an agreement by negotiating on the quiet. The Paris talks between the United States and North Vietnam that began in 1968 and the China-US meetings in Warsaw from their beginnings in 1970 resulted, respectively, in an accord on Vietnam and the Nixon Administration’s move to extend recognition to the People’s Republic of China. Both were not held as a public debate. The problem with the talks on Kashmir is that they have tended to be too open. Delicate issues have been talked about in public without any regard to the sensitivities involved. For instance, for the Indian government to even concede that there is a dispute on Kashmir carries political risks. Similarly, Pakistan feels it cannot agree to any settlement based even remotely on the status quo and renunciation of its moral support for the Kashmiri freedom fighters. But negotiations are not possible without the two sides moving away from the rigid positions they have stuck to for long. This is possible only behind the scenes. Once they go public on any issue, they find themselves playing to the gallery which only complicates matters.
Hence President Musharraf’s strategy of spelling out the framework of an agreement to the press — be it that of regional autonomy or demilitarisation — and demanding that India accept it, throws New Delhi on the defensive. Similarly, Indian allegations of Pakistan being a party to the terrorism in Kashmir evokes a strong reaction from this side. If the two sides decide to talk in private, they may be able to make progress towards a positive outcome on Kashmir, including the realisation by the Kashmiris of their political and human rights. Promoting closer contacts between the people of the two sides of Kashmir will help by creating a cordial atmosphere. Similarly, an understanding between them to impose a moratorium on trading polemical charges would certainly facilitate the dialogue.
IN naming Muhammad Yunus of Bangladesh and his Grameen Bank as the joint winners of the Nobel Peace Prize for 2006, the Nobel selection committee has underscored an important point: that peace is not related to politics alone and is, in fact, inextricably linked to poverty alleviation efforts. The award has come as a total surprise to many who expected high-profile politicians or human rights activists to bag what is undoubtedly the world’s most prestigious prize. Although the micro-credit model pioneered by Professor Yunus (the eighth Nobel Laureate from the subcontinent) has been replicated in more than one hundred countries, the Grameen Bank is little known outside Bangladesh and development circles. But in its 23-year existence, it has proved that a small idea can go a long way in changing the lives of the poor, provided it is implemented by a visionary and a doer like Professor Yunus. From humble beginnings that predate the formal establishment of Grameen in 1983, the bank today reaches out to 6.6 million borrowers, disbursing loans without collateral. The repayment rate is more than 98 per cent.
Besides rescuing the rural poor from the poverty trap and creating in them a sense of hope and self-worth, the bank has contributed significantly to the empowerment of women who constitute the bulk of the borrowers. Along with other companies under the Grameen umbrella, it has encouraged women’s participation in innovative income-generating schemes that have benefited hundreds of thousands of families. It has instilled in women a sense of confidence and the awareness that they possess the ability to give their families and children a better future. There is a lesson in the bank’s achievements for the region as well: that economic ventures with a humanitarian touch can achieve wonders for the marginalised sections of society, including the poverty-stricken and women. Such ventures can also shatter myths about those living in destitution — for instance, charity being crucial to the survival of the poor. Pakistan and other countries in the region would do well to replicate the Grameen model. As Professor Yunus says, “there should be no poverty, anywhere.”
ONE fails to understand what is preventing the Sindh government and the Karachi police from curbing the alarmingly high crime rates in the city. A news report in Saturday’s paper points to a 19.4 per cent rise in car and motorcycle thefts against last year’s figure of January to September. Whereas last year, 2,895 cars were stolen, so far this year’s figure stands at 3,574. The statistics for motorcycle theft are no better. When broken down, 32.6 per cent of Karachiites are being robbed of their cars or motorbikes every day. And if people aren’t worried about having their cars or motorbikes stolen at gun-point, they fear having their cell phones snatched. Despite the launch of the anti-mobile phone theft device on Sept 30, whose introduction should have seen a drop in this crime as phone users can now deactivate their phone set, phones continue to be snatched — 106 were reported stolen on Friday. These figures are alarming and explain the high level of insecurity being felt by the city’s residents. It remains to be seen what instructions the prime minister, who arrived in Karachi on Saturday, issues for tackling the situation.
Analysts attribute the rise in car theft to poor monitoring of the city’s exit and entry points as well as to a lack of coordination between the police and the Anti-Car Lifting Cell. Stricter vigilance on the borders and effective working strategies between the two departments can help curb the crime wave. It is all too well known that unscrupulous elements in the police force are in cahoots with the criminals. If the government wants to address the issue in the right spirit, it has to put in charge efficient and honest police officials who are responsible and diligent and who have a proven record of fighting crime. Only then will visible results be achieved.
Earlier, in his biography: “Ghaddaar Kaun?”, the former prime minister, Nawaz Sharif, had given his version of the Kargil crisis reiterating his contention that the army leadership did not take him into confidence in planning the operation and he was kept in the dark until the situation got out of hand. According to him, the army then pleaded with him to seek American intervention to obtain a Kargil ceasefire.
Nawaz Sharif then did go to Washington and had a meeting with President Clinton on July 4, 1999, which resulted in Paksitan’s withdrawal from the Kargil heights. It still remains a mystery how that visit came about, but those who have read the Kargil excerpts in General Anthony Zinni’s book “Battle Ready” look upon the general’s visit to Islamabad on June 24-25 as a “watershed” event in the closing moments of the crisis. This event somehow figures nowhere in Musharraf’s book.
But in his book, President Musharraf has gone at length to give his side of the story on various aspects of the Kargil crisis. He admits that preparations for the operation had indeed started several months earlier in response to what he alleges “activities on the Indian side” and that a plan of the “defensive manoeuvre” aimed at “plugging the gaps between our positions in the Northern Areas” was formally presented and approved (by whom?) towards the middle of January, 1999.
Both versions have been publicly stated, refuted and restated before in the electronic as well as print media in the form of interviews and statements. There is thus nothing new in Musharraf’s story of Kargil. He has revealed no secrets. He has only reinforced his detractors’ viewpoint.
The world has known all along that the Kargil conflict was the result of a large-scale infiltration of “Kashmiri militants” and Pakistani soldiers into high-altitude positions on the Indian side of the Line of Control, which has served as a de facto border in Kashmir between the two countries. Pakistan’s position during the crisis was that only the mujahideen groups were involved in the taking over of the forward Kargil posts. But no one believed it.
President Musharraf has now confirmed this general perception. He acknowledges the involvement of Pakistan army in preparation of what he claims a “preemptive” and “defensive” operation from October 1998, the month of his appointment as COAS.
On page 93 of his book, he describes the Kargil operations as a “landmark” in the history of the Pakistan army as its only five battalions were able to “compel the Indians to employ more than four divisions” with the bulk of their artillery coming from their strike formations in the southern plains. According to Musharraf’s colleague-in-arm and self-proclaimed nemesis, Ali Kuli Khan, there could not have been “a worst military debacle” in Pakistan’s history.
Interestingly, Musharraf tells out his real mind when he claims (Pages 95-96) that “there was no deliberate offensive operation planned, and moving to the unoccupied gaps along the Line of Control was not a violation of any agreement, and was well within the purview of the local commander.” He is perhaps right.
The operation might indeed have been planned by the army purely as a “tactical and defensive move” with a limited objective of temporarily occupying some of the high altitude posts in the Dras-Kargil sector which the Indians had been vacating every year for the winter. But once launched without political blessing and with extremely limited strategic interaction within the army, the operation soon got out of hand.
The move was not without a precedent. India had made similar “tactical intrusions” across the Line of Control on several occasions in the past in clear violation of the solemnly agreed Line of Control, and had occupied huge territories on our side. But it got away with those violations. In fact, the lost grounds are still with India, including a large chunk of Pakistan’s territory in Chorbat La sector which we lost in 1972, Siachin lost in 1984 (which is now one of the major outstanding issues between India and Pakistan), and several posts lost in Qamar sector in 1988.
Surprisingly, for unknown but not unimaginable reasons, these territorial losses to India were never made public although they now figure prominently in our official or officially-sponsored publications in the context of India’s violations of the Line of Control.
The limited objective of our operation, in military terms, surely must have been to secure a strategically commanding position at the heights overlooking the Dras-Kargil road which would have given us an edge in preventing any likely “offensive” from the other side and also interdicting the Indians in response to what President Musharraf claims their “continuous artillery shelling” at the Neelam Valley Road on our side of the Line of Control.
Even some of our independent military analysts, who have researched and written extensively on the subject, are of the view that the “operation was never intended to reach the scale that it finally did”, and once we found ourselves occupying more than a hundred posts of various sizes, we could not militarily handle the situation. The operation also misjudged the Indian ability and the will to fight back and had assumed that India would never retaliate with an all-out offensive against Pakistan. In other words, it was not prepared for what Musharraf describes (Page 97) “the unreasonably escalated Indian response.”
The biggest flaw of the plan was that it had not catered for the global ‘environment.’ Indeed, it was an aberration to the global environment, and the international reaction soon left no doubt about it. In the given situation, no political leadership or diplomatic strategy could have changed the global perception of the crisis or reversed the deteriorating situation on the ground.
The government did its utmost on the political and diplomatic fronts to counter the adverse reaction from the world community. But the world saw it as a Pakistan-sponsored deliberate act of intrusion of the internationally acknowledged line of control. The major powers, with all the latest satellite monitoring means, blamed us for the “intrusion” and were getting restless over the prospect of a wider conflict in a nuclearised region.
With this ominous global dimension, it was no longer an India-Pakistan affair. The major powers were worried and asked us to back off. Even our friends publicly urged the need for de-escalation of the crisis and prevention of a wider war.
By any standard of world diplomacy, it was a very difficult and unusual diplomatic war in which we tried to convince the world that there would be eruption of more Kargils if the Kashmir dispute was not urgently addressed through a just and fair settlement. Whatever we may say, the world remained more sympathetic to India’s position. In the ultimate analysis, the political leadership did play an appropriate role in defusing the situation and averting the risk of a larger conflict.
The perception that the “military victory” was turned into a “political surrender” will never be sustained by history. Did we achieve anything from Kargil? This question would also be best answered by history. In whatever way one looks at the Kargil events, the episode did mark a “watershed” in India-Pakistan relations.
In his book, President Musharraf also speaks of the various “myths and faulty perceptions” in an attempt to present what he claims to be the “truth.” He answers each one of them and presents his defence and justification of his “handling” of the conflict. But to world’s perception of the Kargil “debacle” and the manner in which this unpleasant chapter had to be wrapped up is different as chronicled worldwide.
He questions the claim that the operation was launched without taking the political leadership into confidence, and also without informing the military hierarchy or senior army leaders. He insists (Page 97) that all parties, including the civilian authority, were on board. According to him, even within the military hierarchy “information was shared on need-to-know basis.” Musharraf denies that the military situation on the ground ever became precarious enough for him to request the prime minister to go to the US to get the army out of it.
Musharraf also disputes the assertion that Pakistan came to the brink of a nuclear war or that there was a nuclear deployment on our side. But he didn’t have to give the explanation that he gives in his book (top of Page 98). In my view, it was only an American hoax to bring Pakistan under pressure for withdrawal.
Interestingly, while dealing with the “myth” about the number of Paksitan’s casualties, Musharraf does not give any figure while he does mention that by their own admission, the Indians had suffered “over 600 killed and over 1,500 wounded.” According to him, our information suggests that the real numbers were at least twice what India had publicly admitted. Since our side does not recall any number of our casualties, may be we could halve the Indian-claimed figures of our casualties to determine an approximate though not credible figure of our losses.
(To be continued)
The writer is a former foreign secretary.