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For
a process that Musharraf and Prime Minister Manmohan Singh have
often boastingly described as irreversible, the present state of
bilateral negotiations looks disastrous.
India
is threatening punitive action in case its cross-border concerns
are not adequately addressed, while Pakistan is saying enough is
enough, ominously mentioning words like "nuclear holocaust."
As Washington and the world rivet attention on Israel's war in Lebanon,
even the usual good offices of the interested brokers aren't available
for mending the South Asian neighbours' broken fences. So while
the two countries are - fortunately - a sane distance away from
relapsing into jingoistic posturing, the warmth of friendship is
fading fast. What happened to the much-publicised labour of the
peace-makers love?
One
answer is easy to give: the Mumbai blasts. The ferocity of the sophisticated
attacks killing over 200 people and injuring many more has left
the Indian administration baffled. In the absence of any convincing
leads to track down the perpetrators of Mumbai's murderous mayhem,
the establishment followed the safe and familiar path of turning
the heat on Islamabad. This gut reaction defined the subsequent
pattern of the mood in both the capitals, with Delhi stepping up
the ante and Islamabad slowly taking off its kid-gloves.
With
hindsight, it can be said that Islamabad moved half-heartedly into
the latest sparring bout. For at least 48 hours after the train-blasts
in Mumbai, a pall of unease hung over Pakistan's decision-making
circles. As India went through the agony of counting their dead,
and TV analysts spewed myriad quick-fire theories about the hows
and whys of the incident, Pakistani officials issued a strongly
worded condemnation of the blasts in the hope of reassuring Delhi.
They went into a wait-and-see mode holding back any commentary lest
that should be seen in a negative light by India. Yet even in that
temporary phase of verbal paraplegia, the unstated expectation was
that perhaps this time round the Indian finger would not point across
the border.
To
give this expectation a concrete form, Pakistan's foreign secretary
Riaz Muhammad Khan made a condolence call on his Indian counterpart,
Shyam Saran. Politely and tactfully, he also raised the issue of
the new schedule of talks. To this Mr. Saran's matter-of-fact answer
was, "We will let you know." For senior foreign office
officials, the response from Delhi was crucial in testing the limits
or potential of the peace process. "We have invested too much
time and energy in the whole effort to see it getting blown away
by the blasts. If that happens, it would be a real tragedy,"
says one of the officials who had almost finished a brief for the
secretary-level review talks in Delhi.
That ardent wish for avoiding real tragedy did not last long.
While the composite dialogue did not suffer an instant or total
collapse, it went into cold storage as the Indian Prime Minister
publicly took the stand that the planning for the bomb blasts had
support from across the border (read Pakistan). The Indian ministry
of external affairs followed that up with an official communication
to Islamabad's High Commission in Delhi on July 15 that, on account
of the Mumbai blasts, the talks would have to be indefinitely postponed.
The communication did not allude to any involvement of Pakistan
in the incident. Yet it was clear that the Indians were not listening
to Islamabad's, 'let us stay together in adversity,' theme.
But
perhaps taken in by their exaggerated faith in the strength of the
peace process - cited as one of the biggest achievements of the
present government by the president down to the Union Council-level
politicians - the hardening of the Indian posture was still seen
in a charitable light by the members of the policy-making management.
It was perhaps for this reason, that while showing disappointment
with the postponement decision in public, Pakistani officials continued
to be optimistic in private about the resumption of the dialogue
process. It is a dampener on the peace process, but it is not the
end of it. "The two countries have come some way forward on
this road and I do not see a reversal in this movement," said
a senior Pakistan foreign office official in Islamabad. He also
said that Pakistan's policy is not to sully the environment by getting
into a verbal spat with India over the postponement.
"If
you expect us to issue stinging counters to the veiled allegations
that somehow Pakistan-based groups are involved in this act, then
forget it. Our present policy is to hold tempers rather than excite
them. We have denied these charges firmly and have offered our co-operation
in the investigation if any evidence is provided to us. But this
is all," the official said. Though that sounded like a fairly
balanced position, more than that it showed the difficult balancing
act Islamabad was trying to maintain: it was avoiding a tongue-lashing
contest with Delhi, without being seen keen on accommodating Indian
concerns over counter-terrorism efforts.
In
background briefings, senior foreign office officials go to great
lengths asserting that Pakistan's interest in peace is driven by
its own requirements. "We want peace on the borders. We want
to focus on economic development. War and conflict are costly distractions
that we can do away with," says a senior foreign office official.
Yet
this "costly distraction" is very much there. The Mumbai
blasts have only brought it to the forefront in a crass fashion.
The two sides' military planners have never factored out an immediate
war threat from their calculations. Side by side with the peace
process, even when it looked rather promising, their war preparation
has been moving alongside. Delhi's recent military exercises practiced
the aim of cutting the target (Pakistan) into half. Pakistan's planning
maps show India as an enemy whose sole aim is Pakistan's total subjugation.
Pakistan's upcoming 5.1 billion dollar defence shopping spree from
the US, including 18 new and 26 old F-16s worth three billion dollars,
is indicative of the prevailing hostilities. The deal has been prompted
by the long inventory of defence purchases India is expected to
make in the coming months.
So while time has indeed been invested in building a momentum for
peace, billions have also been earmarked for future conflicts. This
paradox is at the heart of the present crisis of talks between the
two countries. Their respective commitments to peace are born of
different but expedient circumstances. For Pakistan, peace- diplomacy
is as much for refurbishing a good global image as it is an acceptance
of the futility of the war option. For India, peace overtures are
more a bargaining chip with Washington for formalising its role
as a global power, and a piecemeal ploy to engage a much smaller,
though dangerous, neighbour. There is no well-thought and genuine
peace philosophy that has accompanied the composite dialogue which,
in realistic terms, is better described as a compromise dialogue.
It is a reflection of the fragility of the peace process that Islamabad
too is relapsing into its usual ways of looking at India. The corridors,
once clogged by peace-pushers, are now witnessing a growing traffic
of cynics and critics of the whole idea of engagement with India.
A feeling is growing in Pakistan that Delhi's mindset has not changed
much, even after three rounds of composite dialogue. India's move
to put the talks on hold has reinforced the argument that the dialogue
is going nowhere except around in circles.
President General Pervez Musharraf had his ear bent towards the
hawks on India when he first considered and then rejected the idea
of calling up Prime Minister Manmohan Singh after the Mumbai blasts.
The president's call to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh would have
been incongruous because immediately after the incident feelers
were being sent through the media that sooner or later the old charge-sheet
against Pakistan would come up again. Also, every time something
happens in India, a call at the highest level from Pakistan should
not be expected. "We have had some serious terrorist attacks
here in Pakistan, but never has there ever been official condemnation
of these from India," says a close aide to President Musharraf.
This feeling was further fuelled by the absence of any response
from India to the killing of a prominent leader of Muttihida Malis-e-Amal
(MMA), Allama Turabi, in Karachi in a suicide attack three days
after the Mumbai blasts.
Another one of Musharraf's confidants, also the main architect of
the present posture towards India, explained the context in which
the Pakistani President seems more receptive to his ideas. "We
have been very patient with the Indian allegations in the past and
have not been provoked into counter-allegations. But it is difficult
to keep wearing a welcoming smile for peace when evidence is growing
that Delhi has been deliberately and methodically fanning a veritable
secessionist movement in Balochistan. We are all for the dialogue
to resume, but we are not going to walk the extra mile on a path
strewn with unsubstantiated charges and conspiracies to destabilise
Pakistan," says the official.
The Balochistan card is the newest charge that Islamabad has levelled
against Delhi. Initially, only hints were dropped at the possible
involvement of India in fomenting trouble in the area. But now,
intelligence chiefs explain this role with the help of what they
call, decisive evidence, detailing money and weapons supply routes.
These allegations mark a precipitous low in the dialogue process.
Restraint on mutual recrimination is what the two sides have tried
to tackle in their dialogue because of the infectious nature of
this exercise and the damning impact it has on the general environment
for negotiations. With that restraint gone, the sky is the limit
for the present propaganda surge.
There is little evidence to suggest that President Musharraf and
the foreign policy establishment would pull their punches in the
face of Delhi's hard hitting statements.
The Pakistan Muslim League, the ruling party, is just a year away
from elections, while President Musharraf himself will be pitching
himself for another term in less than eight months. He and the party
he supports cannot afford to be flying for peace on an apologetic
wing. No wonder then that for now, raiding the suspected hideouts
of jihadis on India's demand is not an item on President Musharraf's
agenda. Even though he has been the most ardent champion of the
cause of this peace process, gloriously claiming its success at
every forum, he cannot escape the new reality - that for now, the
talks are dead in their tracks.
There is even less chance of a response from Islamabad to Delhi's'
demand of firmer action against cross-border infiltration. That
would only change if and when Delhi produces evidence to back up
its claims. In fact, the probability of a toughening of Pakistan's
position is considerable if Delhi persists with pre-conditions of
stronger actions against what India alleges are home-grown terrorists.
But even as the hostility heats up and dreams of a peaceful subcontinent
begin to grow cold, efforts are on to save the remains of the composite
dialogue.
Says a senior foreign office official, "Who said burying decades
of animosity is easy? This needs time. Peace processes are problematic.
Look at the world, from Sri Lanka to the Middle East, it is the
same everywhere."
The example is instructive, but for a totally different reason.
From Sri Lanka to the Middle East, all broken peace processes have
resulted in bloodshed, killing and war. A stalled dialogue process
should be the cause of worry rather than smug satisfaction.
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