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"Learn
Quran," reads the board posted at the entrance of a double-storied
house in a working-class neighborhood outside Islamabad. A few young,
well-built boys hover around, apparently guarding the building.
They are unarmed. Inside, a staircase leads to a large basement,
where young and middle-aged men with beards of different sizes are
resting, most lying supine on the floor. The walls are plastered
with posters depicting militants fighting Indian security forces
in the Kashmir valley.
This is the hangout of local Kashmiri militants, ostensibly
inactive in the wake of Islamabad's changing Kashmir policy. New
efforts by the administration to rein in militants from Pakistan
crossing the Line of Control, into Indian-occupied Kashmir, has
apparently had the desired effect - at least to some degree.
"This has been my life," says a tall, fair-complexioned
Kashmiri man, Javed Meer, pointing to a poster on the wall in which
a mujahid is portrayed targeting an Indian tank. "I have grown
up with it. My life is to wage jihad and liberate my motherland
from the cruel Indians. I have sacrificed everything. How can I
turn my back on my own people, my land and the aim of my life?"
says the 26-year-old Javed. "Washington can put pressure on
Islamabad, but not on us. It can slow down the militancy, but cannot
stop it. We are Kashmiris and nobody can stop us from crossing the
LoC. It will be a betrayal," he adds. A pause, and then, after
that impassioned speech, some uncertainty. "Do you think our
struggle will end due to the increasing pressure?" asks Javed.
Like him, around 5,000 Kashmiri militants in Pakistan are left disillusioned
and embittered after Islamabad's visible distancing from the jihadis.
After his recent visit to Pakistan, US Deputy Secretary of State
Richard Armitage said President Pervez Musharraf gave him "assurances
that there was nothing happening" across the LoC and that guerrilla
camps either no longer existed or "would be gone tomorrow."
Mr. Armitage's visit to the two countries was an effort to make
the nuclear-armed rivals - Pakistan and India - understand how imperative
friendship between them is for the stability of all of South Asia.
New Delhi and Islamabad have made substantial headway in this direction,
with a resumption of High Commissioner level diplomatic ties - virtually
severed more than a year ago - Islamabad's release of Indian prisoners
and both sides agreeing to restore rail and air links (although
no time frame has been announced for the restoration). Most significantly,
there have been signals - albeit confusing ones sometimes - of a
willingness to talk on all issues, including Kashmir. However, New
Delhi has continued to maintain that enduring peace cannot be established
until Islamabad stops the militants from infiltrating into Kashmir,
and the international community concurs with this view as evinced
by its continuing pressure on Islamabad in this regard. The US decision
last month to declare the two largest Kashmiri groups, Hizbul Mujahideen,
with 4,000 fighters, and Jamiat-ul Mujahideen with a force of 2,000
trained guerillas, as terrorist groups, is seen as a tacit declaration
by the US that the Kashmiri militant campaign is a "terrorist,"
movement.
The relentless pressure on the Pakistani government seems to have
engendered 'positive' results. President Musharraf himself now seems
to be coming down hard against militancy. This worries Kashmiri
militants like Javed Meer who believe that if General Musharraf
continues his policies, some small groups may fall by the wayside,
leaving thousands of jihadis with no sense of direction. Some Kashmiri
fighters admit that due to the massive deployment of Indian and
Pakistani troops along the LoC and the new resolve of the Pakistani
forces, cross-border traffic by militants across the LoC has already
decreased. They contend that if the "moral" support hitherto
lent by Pakistan dries up, the Kashmiri mujahideen's supply line
will be virtually cut off, which will deal a serious blow to the
'jihad' in Indian-administered Kashmir.
"If the militancy ends, what will bring India to the negotiating
table? There is no other tactic. India will have a free hand to
kill and further suppress Muslims in the valley," says Ghulamullah
Kiyani, known as the intellectual voice of Kashmir's militant groups.
"We are not against talks, but with India our guns should not
be silent."
He continues, "If Islamabad succumbs to the pressure,
it will be a blow to the Kashmiri freedom struggle. What will the
future of the Kashmiri mujahideen, who have pledged their very lifeblood
to the cause, be?"
Pakistan's position
aside, the alleged corruption among some mujahideen commanders and
infighting between the rival factions of the Hizb has triggered
fears that the movement may be substantially eroded. The assassination
of Hizb chief operational commander, Majeed Dar, in March, sparked
clashes within the group, resulting in at least two deaths of fighters
in Muzaffarabad and Rawalpindi. Last month, Dar's men accused Hizb
chief Syed Salahuddin of masterminding the murder, a charge vehemently
denied by Salahuddin's supporters. Thereafter, according to reliable
sources, Dar's men took control of the Hizb office being run by
Salahuddin's men in Rawalpindi. Gunfire was reportedly exchanged
by the rival factions, and grenades were hurled. Dar's men allegedly
pocketed a large amount of Pakistani currency from the office before
eventually vacating the premises.
Such events further impact the already shaky movement. A change
is already visible in the mujahideen's ranks. Many have started
maintaining a low profile, others have gone underground, yet others
have joined the mainstream.
"I have killed Indian troops. I have fought against them in
Srinagar, Sopore and Baramulla. I was known as 'Mr Grenade' because
of my expertise, with these firearms. But now I drive a cab the
whole day and earn 200 rupees, and in the evenings I spend time
with my old friends from the battlefield," says 29-year-old
Mohammad Iqbal, a Hizb activist. However, he is not entirely reconciled
to his new existence. "I feel betrayed. I feel I have been
caught in the crossfire," he says. "My younger brother
is missing. My nephew was murdered by Indian security forces. Now
we are being forced to be pragmatic."
Hizbul Mujahideen chief and chairman of the Muttahida Jihad Council,
an alliance of Kashmiri militant groups, Syed Salahuddin clearly
realises that the 'jihad' is running into trouble, and keeps exhorting
the mujahideen cadres to keep their spirits up. "The mujahids
should not lose heart. Militancy will be strengthened by the grace
of Allah," he says (see box). How far his pleas will carry,
only time and the developments in the Indo-Pak detente will determine.
Although Pakistan has always supported the independence struggle
in Kashmir, jihadi culture has been promoted in the country in an
organised manner for the last two decades. During the Afghan War
against the Soviets in the '80s, Muslim militant groups from across
the Muslim world were given world sanction to wage jihad against
the occupiers. With state approval, Pakistan became the base of
this operation. After the withdrawal of Soviet troops from Afghanistan,
the jihadis found themselves at a loose end. However, another "cause"
soon appeared: the freedom struggle in Indian-administered Kashmir.
Many of the militants who headed in that direction were trained
in camps of the former commander of the Hizbe-Islami, Gulbuddin
Hikmatyar, in Khost. Once again, the road to Kashmir was via Pakistan
and as the mujahids made their way to the disputed region, they
drew in a large number of Pakistani recruits.
Not surprisingly then, until recently, every village and town in
Pakistan was awash with graffiti glorifying holy war. Pakistan-based
jihadi groups involved in the fighting in Kashmir, such as the Jaish
Mohammad and Lashkar-e-Taiba, glorified the "martyrdom"
of local boys and constructed monuments in their memory in villages
and towns, in the process recruiting young boys and collecting donations
for the cause. The ranks of the indigenous Kashmiri fighters thus
swelled manifold. At the same time, hordes of educated Indian-Kashmiri
youths involved in the struggle would cross the LoC into Pakistan
when ever the situation became too hot to handle. According to sources
around 25,000 Kashmiri fighters belonging to different groups, routinely
crossed the line of control into Pakistan over the past 13-14 years,
with local authorities benevolently looking the other way. Kashmiri
groups, in fact, even established their media centres and arranged
visits for international and local media persons to their training
camps in Muzaffarabad and other towns in Azad Kashmir. Furthermore,
they conducted training programmes for new recruits and special
commando training ones for experienced fighters. Boys were trained
to handle Kalashnikov rifles, rocket launchers, hand grenades and
other explosives for warriors,' and they would display the heavy
ammunition they had been given publicly. The Kashmiri groups operated
from the state-of-the-art offices they had set up, which had several
rooms that served as guest rooms. Each group had a hierarchy based
on the pattern of a regular army, with powerful supreme commanders,
followed by commanders, all of whom drove around in convoys of four-wheel
drive vehicles, flanked by armed bodyguards. And all this in full
view - if not with the financial support of - sections of the Pakistani
establishment which has always viewed Kashmir a pivot in Pakistan's
foreign policy.
While Islamabad has always termed its support as "moral and
diplomatic," some events have revealed the erroneousness of
this claim all too graphically. For example, when Kashmiri guerillas
fought alongside Pakistani troops in the frontlines during the Kargil
conflict against Indian forces in 1999, the nexus became eminently
visible.
Things only changed vis-a-vis Pakistan's stance towards the Kashmiri
movement after Pakistan joined America's war on terror. General
Musharraf launched a campaign to marginalise militant groups in
Pakistan and banned five groups, including two Pakistani Kashmiri
groups, the Lashkar-e-Taiba and Jaish-e-Mohammad, after they were
accused by New Delhi of attacking the Indian parliament building
on December 13, 2001. Following the ban, the parties' leaders, Maulana
Masood Azhar and Hafiz Saeed, were detained. Their offices were
dismantled, their activities closely monitored, donation boxes vanished
from public places. However, soon thereafter, these groups re-emerged
with new names. The Jaish renamed itself Khadimoon-ul Islam (Servants
of Islam), and Lashkar continues to operate under its new banner
of Jamaat-ud Daawa.
After a short incarceration, the two party chiefs were released.
Until recently, Lashkar Chief Hafiz Saeed was delivering speeches
in public meetings calling for jihad. And despite its leader's confinement,
the party has managed to remain a potent, organised force. According
to one estimate, it collected over a million hides of sacrificial
animals on Eid-ul Azha, a powerful indicator of the group's ability
to mobilise support.
Other banned groups - most of which drew their members from non-Kashmiri
militants - have taken cues from the Jaish and Lashkar. The Harkat-ul
Mujahideen, led by Maulana Fazal-ur Rehman Khalil, which was banned
by the US State Department in 1998 and had its assets frozen, has
resurfaced as the Jamiat-ul Ansar.
No ban has been placed on Kashmiri militant groups by Islamabad,
despite the ban placed on Hizbul Mujahideen and Jamiatul Mujahideen
by the US. "The government has not banned the Hizbul Mujahideen,
as it has no presence in Pakistan," says Federal Interior Minister,
Faisal Saleh Hayat. "The Hizb is a Kashmir-based organisation
and the authority to ban it lies with the Azad Kashmir government."
He adds, "However, Pakistan's policy is crystal clear. The
government will not allow any individual or a group of organisations
to use its territory for launching terrorist attacks on a third
country."
But while Islamabad's recent policy to root out extremist elements
from the country is being hailed by the international community,
Kashmir remains a sensitive issue for the defence establishment
and for many Pakistanis.
"I do not think that the Kashmir policy can change overnight.
It cannot be wished away if Washington or New Delhi or Islamabad
say so. The best future lies in a meaningful dialogue between Pakistan
and India," says analyst Nasim Zehra. "It will depend
how sincere New Delhi is and how willing it is to resolve the Kashmir
issue according to the wishes of the people of Kashmir."
General Musharraf knows how tricky the situation is. Extremist groups
have long been operating with impunity in the country and have made
significant inroads into sections of Pakistani society. Their political
support comes from a strong political alliance of religious parties,
the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal, which is ruling the North West Frontier
Province (NWFP) and is a major coalition partner in Balochistan.
Members of this alliance, are not just ideologically aligned to
the jihad in Kashmir, some have also directly participated in it.
MNA Sabir Awan and Maulana Usman, a provincial legislator from the
NWFP, both of whom belong to the Jamaat-e-Islami, participated in
the jihad in Kashmir in the early '90s.
The parties constituting the MMA see General Musharraf as a puppet
of America and the western powers. Thus, he has to deal with both
internal and external pressure, and neither side is willing to give
an inch.
Meanwhile, Kashmiri commanders say they are adopting a wait-and-see
policy. With New Delhi and Islamabad at the negotiating table and
Washington pushing them along, the future of the Kashmiri militants
hange in the balance.
Says a founding member of the Kashmiri movement, "After 9/11
the continuation of militant campaigns across the globe is not easy.
Take the LTTE in Sri Lanka which has had to change its policy. It
all depends on New Delhi; if it shows flexibility during the negotiations,
then the Kashmiri militants will have to fall in line and lay down
their guns. If not, the militants will gain a new lifeline. And
guns will once again rule the Kashmir valley."
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