Monday, December 24, 2001

The Pakistan conundrum


EVEN CONTRARIANS will concede that the decision by the Government of India to recall its High Commissioner from Islamabad and to terminate the New Delhi to Lahore bus service as well as the Samjhauta Express is reflective of the deep sense of public outrage at the terrorist attacks on the Indian Parliament on December 13 and on the Jammu and Kashmir Legislature on October 1. More critically, however, New Delhi's moves articulate a growing frustration at its relations with Islamabad and its inability, despite persistent efforts, to inject a modicum of civility and stability to bilateral relations. The Pakistan conundrum presents perhaps the most intriguing example in the history of state-to-state relations since the Treaty of Westphalia. Neither military defeat, nor constructive engagement, nor unilateral gesture, nor passive disregard, nor even international pressure seems to be able to reduce the pathological hostility that the Pakistani state bears towards India, and which goes much beyond the problems in Kashmir.
Consider the recent history of India-Pakistan relations, and the manner in which the whole spectrum of policies adopted by New Delhi towards Islamabad has floundered because of oppugnant Pakistani behaviour. Twice since 1998 New Delhi has publicly engaged Pakistan. The Lahore summit of February 1999 raised expectations that a new detente in the subcontinent was in the offing, and indeed the summit documents included an imaginative set of cooperative measures, particularly on the nuclear issue. So much so that several do-gooders prematurely nominated Prime Ministers Vajpayee and Sharif for the Nobel peace prize. But even more prudent analysts seemed to have been convinced that the overt nuclearisation of the subcontinent would help Pakistan acquire the confidence and maturity to normalise its relations with India without being burdened with existentialist fears that had plagued it since 1947, more so since 1971.
In the event, Pakistan - instead of seeking to project itself as a responsible nuclear power - sought to use the cover of nuclear weapons to escalate the conflict in Kashmir, burying the Lahore process under the heights of Kargil. Similarly, the Agra summit failed primarily because Pakistan was unwilling to concede that no normalisation of relations is possible until Islamabad discontinues its policy of sponsoring violence and terror across the border. Indeed, it is believed that India had been willing to concede at Agra much more than it had done during the last decade, including setting up of a high-level bilateral group to discuss Kashmir and only Kashmir. But whatever was left of the spirit of Agra evaporated after the September 11 terrorist attacks and particularly after the terrorist attack in Srinagar on October 1.
But Lahore and Agra were only the public face of a policy of engagement that New Delhi has been attempting to construct at various levels. More important, India has not been shying away from discussing what Pakistan has termed as the core issue of Kashmir. It is now well known that a special envoy of the Prime Minister, Mr. Atal Behari Vajpayee, had been discreetly meeting a Pakistani counterpart, in the weeks after the Lahore summit, to discuss a possible resolution of the Kashmir issue. It is even believed that the two interlocutors had been mandated by their respective Prime Ministers to find a solution to the Kashmir issue before the dawn of the 21st century, and met several times in Islamabad and New Delhi before Kargil and the military coup by General Musharraf derailed the process.
Similarly, New Delhi has persisted with its efforts to initiate a peace process with Kashmiri separatists, even with that section which it knows is deeply beholden to Pakistan and is in constant touch with elements within the Pakistani establishment. Even before Mr. K. C. Pant was designated a special interlocutor earlier this year, a quiet dialogue with Kashmiri separatists and militants had been continuing for at least a year. But it became clear that any time there was a real chance of translating discreet drawing room parleys into a more public political process, Pakistan would use all means at its disposal, including direct physical threats, to subvert the process. In other words, Islamabad was unwilling to even let Kashmiri leaders, whom it had sponsored, sustain a meaningful dialogue with New Delhi's representatives.
Neither have unilateral gestures of goodwill and cooperation made a difference. India's continued treatment of Pakistan as a most favoured nation has not been reciprocated by Islamabad and it is believed that the report of the SAARC Eminent Persons Group, which recommends imaginative time-bound steps to promote regional economic integration, has been given short shrift by Pakistan, despite the presence of one of its former Foreign Secretaries as part of the group. New Delhi's decision, before the Agra summit, to unilaterally relax visa rules or its decision to open further crossing points on the border have failed or had little effect in the absence of Pakistani reciprocity. Pakistani unwillingness to give visas to Indian artistes, its attempts at blocking Indian television channels, have meant that the hope that there could be a detente from below, a genuine breakthrough because of greater people-to-people contact, too have been dashed.
Ignoring the military regime in Pakistan has always seemed to be an attractive option. For more than a year, after the Kargil war and before the Agra Summit, India passively disregarded Islamabad. There were those within India who were convinced that Pakistan was in such a deep internal crisis that it was best left alone. Economically it was on the verge of collapse, politically it had descended into yet another praetorian phase and socially it was one of the most divided societies in the world.
On paper, this option may have seemed desirable, but in reality it was an option that was unsustainable. It is extremely difficult to ignore Pakistan if Islamabad does not want to be left alone. As long as Pakistan continues its support for militancy and terrorism in Kashmir and other places, and seeks to portray South Asia as a region on the brink of a nuclear war, it will be almost impossible to look the other way.
If both a policy of constructive engagement and passive disregard have failed, so has the policy of military defeat and international pressure. Although it would have been unrealistic to expect General Musharraf, architect of Kargil, to concede that the war of 1999 led to a total humiliation of Pakistan, militarily and diplomatically, it is a fact conceded by a wide range of Pakistani commentators. But the lessons of Kargil have not led to any change in the Pakistani attitude towards India. Indeed, in the past, even the defeat of 1971, and the dismemberment of the country, led to no rupture in Pakistani thinking.
Nor does Pakistan's global isolation, until September 11, its description as a failed state, or persistent international pressure, most memorably reflected in President Clinton's statements during his four-hour stop in Islamabad last year, seem to have forced the guardians of the Pakistan state to change their India policy.
What then are the options open for India? Will the future be different from the past? Very unlikely. In the long term, the only hope is that the Pakistani state and society, through introspection, or other means, will move away from its anti-Indian identity to becoming a country that has come to terms with itself and is able to construct itself in more humane, if not more modern, terms. But in the short term, India will have to live with persistent Pakistani hostility even while it may attempt, in vain if past experience is good evidence, a new cycle of policies, ranging from military action to constructive engagement.

(Source: The Hindu, 24/12/01)

Monday, September 17, 2001

The Kux Of The Matter


The United States And Pakistan, 1947-2000, Disenchanted Allies, Dennis Kux, Woodrow Wilson Center Press, Washington DC
Few relationships in the international arena have been as tempestuous as Pakistan's with the United States. While India's ties with America may have gone the roller-coaster way, Washington's engagement with Islamabad has swung like a pendulum. At times, Pakistan and the US have shared a passionately intense arrangement, with Islamabad virtually reduced to a client state of Washington. On other occasions, the separation has been so deep and wide that the possibility of reconciliation has seemed almost impossible. But then, few relationships have been as unlikely or unequal.
What, one might ask, does an economic and military superpower that views itself as being the paragon of democratic and secular values have in common with a poor third world country built on the ideology of religious separatism and whose commitment to democracy has often existed not even on paper? That, however, is the stuff of international politics. And while the odd Marxist ideologue may still pretend otherwise, nations usually pursue each other not because of a shared attachment to common values, but due to a perceived convergence of strategic interests. And the relationship falls apart once either or both sides feel that continued engagement is no longer in their national interest. This zeitgeist of contemporary international relations encapsulates the turbulent US-Pakistan relationship.
As is inevitable in any unequal relationship, the priorities and strategic calculations that motivated Islamabad and Washington to come together during the cold war years were different. For Islamabad the calculus, while being central to its foreign policy, was a rather simple one. India, and mostly always the belligerent relationship that existed with New Delhi, was the determining factor in its relationship with the outside world. As the weaker state, facing a bigger and militarily superior neighbour, Islamabad cultivated Washington and hoped that diplomatic and military support from the US would enable it to balance New Delhi.
For Washington, Pakistan ranked relatively much lower in priority, but the calculations were more complex. Pakistan was a pawn in its global game to contain the bulwark of Soviet communism, with neighbouring India pursuing what many Americans believed was an 'immoral' policy of non-alignment. For a brief period, during the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, Islamabad almost graduated to being more than just a subaltern in the American grand strategy. Once, however, the cold war was over, Pakistan's importance became marginal, and—in recent assessments—it is its 'nuisance power' rather than its strategic utility that has generally guided American policy towards it.
Ambassador Dennis Kux, who had previously authored the critically-acclaimed study of India-US relations, India and the United States: Estranged Democracies, 1941-1991, has once again produced a masterly account of the US-Pakistan relationship. Comprehensive in scope, tracing events from Pakistan's independence and the initiation of diplomatic relations, to President Clinton's visit to Islamabad in March 2000, Kux's narrative makes for an engrossing and engaging read. Although heavily referenced, and drawing from recently declassified American sources as well as a series of interviews with American and Pakistani policymakers, the book is written, in its easily accessible style, as much for the general reader as for the scholar. Kux has an added advantage since he served in the American embassy in Islamabad in two critical phases, from 1957 to 1959, and again from 1969 to 1971, and was eyewitness to many of the events that led to the blossoming of the relationship.
Kux's account, for instance, of the well-known trip by then National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger, to China in July 1971 makes for compelling reading, despite the wealth of new material that has appeared recently on the subject. According to Kux, President Richard Nixon, who had incidentally won political fame because of his tirade against communism, sought Yahya Khan's help as early as 1969 to help Washington make an opening to China. And once China had responded positively, Kissinger was sent to Beijing via Islamabad. The mission was, however, top secret and once in Islamabad Kissinger pretended to be down with a severe case of 'Delhi belly' which required him to rest for a day or two in the mountain resort of Nathiagali. In reality, he was confabulating with Chinese leaders in Beijing and it was this preparatory trip that enabled Nixon to make his famous visit. Even the author, as Kissinger's control officer in Islamabad, was unaware of the trip until it was made public later by the White House.
Any long-term assessment of bilateral ties must finally focus on popular perceptions and public attitudes. The sad reality is that not only is the US seen as an untrustworthy ally by Pakistan's ruling elite, but, as Kux points out, most Pakistanis believe that the US discarded Islamabad 'like a used Kleenex' after the Afghan war. However, and in this may lie the crux of the problems of Pakistan, the US and much of the international community seem today to be echoing what US secretary of state Dean Rusk wrote after his 1963 trip to South Asia: "Fear, distrust and hatred of India means that we cannot rely on Pakistan to act rationally and in what we think would be its own interests."


(Source: Outlook, 17/09/01)

Friday, February 2, 2001

Salvaging the peace process in Kashmir


IN THE Kashmir of today, every deadline is like a Damocles sword ready to snap the only link with hope and survival. And the next deadline is February 26, the day on which New Delhi's latest extension of the unilateral ceasefire will come to an end. It is clear to even the most casual observer that unless there is a dramatic shift in established postures, and a discernable change in the ground situation, the end of February may mark the demise of one of the bravest attempts to generate a peace process in Jammu and Kashmir.
Over two months ago, the Prime Minister's announcement of a unilateral cessation of combat operations against militants in the State had brought hope and expectation. But today, in the Kashmir Valley particularly, a sense of relief at the extension is being smothered by the recognition that sustainable peace in the State may remain elusive in the foreseeable future.
Fundamentally, it is in the inability to generate a meaningful dialogue between New Delhi and separatist opinion, as represented by the All-Party Hurriyat Conference, that the peace process is floundering, even while Pakistan-sponsored militant outfits continue to spread terror, and especially target pro-Indian constituents within the Kashmiris, in cold contempt of the unilateral ceasefire. Unless, therefore, the peace initiative begins to reveal visible dividends quickly, even the Prime Minister, Mr. Atal Behari Vajpayee, will be constrained to call off New Delhi's boldest gesture, in recent years, towards the Kashmiri people.
But has the ceasefire initiative led to any tangible gains? Who, in any case, is to blame for the lack of obvious progress? And can the incipient peace process be prevented from being derailed? Perhaps the biggest achievement of the Ramzan initiative is the widespread acceptance within the State that ceasefire was not a tactical manoeuvre by the Central Government to secure short-term advantage, but rooted in a genuine desire, on part of Mr. Vajpayee at the very least, to bring durable peace to the State. Not surprisingly, the Prime Minister's Musings from Kumarakom have struck the right chord. Indeed, one separatist leader recently went as far as to suggest that no Prime Minister including Nehru had been so bold and forthright in his resolve to settle the problems of Kashmir. And he echoed Mr. Vajpayee's words: ``In our search for a lasting solution to the Kashmir problem, both in its external and internal dimensions, we shall not traverse solely on the beaten track of the past''.
There is also no doubt that the Ramzan initiative has been able to tap, in a substantial measure, the overwhelming sentiment against violence prevailing in the State. There is sufficient evidence today, for instance, to indicate that on at least two related fronts there has been significant progress. First, there is widespread relief in Kashmir at the end of the cordon and search operations that were conducted by the security forces and which unfortunately often led to harassment of ordinary innocent civilians. This relief is slowly but surely translating into a larger peace constituency, and is gradually eroding the powerful anti-Indian sentiment prevalent particularly in the Kashmir Valley.
In recent years, the single biggest source of estrangement of the local population from New Delhi was harassment by security forces, and an end to this routine humiliation has taken away the biggest grouse of the ordinary Kashmiri. What is particularly reassuring is that the Central security forces have, despite tremendous provocations, adhered by and large scrupulously to the ceasefire. The same, however, cannot be said for the local security outfits, particularly the State task force, which - on occasion - seem to have deliberately disregarded the new terms of engagement. However, the Kashmiris are sensitive enough to make a distinction between the Centre's initiative and local forces that may be seeking to disrupt the slow march towards peace.
Second, the ceasefire has also made it possible to clearly identify and isolate those outfits that are continuing to perpetrate violence. And the verdict is clear: barring a few incidents, the two organisations that have demonstrated no sensitivity towards the powerful sentiment for peace are the Lashkar-e-Taiba and the Jaish-e-Mohammad. Both organisations are led, manned, financed, trained and controlled by forces in Pakistan and have less than a tenuous link with elements that lie at the very heart of the Pakistani establishment.
Given their suffering over the last decade and their continuing sense of fear and insecurity, it is premature to expect Kashmiris to publicly and openly distance themselves from these organisations. But there are signs that both these outfits are finding it increasingly difficult to obtain logistic and other forms of support from the local population. Indeed, the more these organisations persist with their mission of terror, the greater will be the alienation of Kashmiris from them, and it will eventually open up the possibility of active resistance from Kashmir's still-latent civil society. More important, despite the Lashkar's recent espousal of civic problems in Kashmir, the ideological distance between Kashmiri cultural norms and the Lashkar's obscurantist extremism is so huge that there is virtually no possibility that this Manichean divide can be overcome.
But the ceasfire can, at best, be only a means towards generating a meaningful engagement, in which the main actors have a stake. This has, despite persistent efforts, not happened. It would have been naive to expect Pakistan to cooperate with New Delhi's peace offensive. Nonetheless, the manner in which militant outfits and other agencies in Pakistan have sought to manipulate the composition of the APHC delegation to the country, shown not even the slightest willingness to clamp down on the militants, and escalated the violence against civilians in the Valley, leaves no doubt that Pakistan is deeply insecure about any peace process involving New Delhi and the Kashmiris.
What, however, is tragic is how the APHC is, because of pressure from Pakistan and Pakistan-based militant outfits, not responding in any meaningful manner to the Centre's open offer to enter into an unconditional dialogue, bound not by the limits of the Constitution but, in the Prime Minister's words, within the framework of Insaniyat. Nor have they come out against the continued violence by the Lashkar and the Jaish. A visit to Pakistan to convince militants of the need to reciprocate the ceasefire, or to provide Pakistan with a face saver (which on present evidence it does not seem to interested in), can only be a sideshow.
The real theatre has to be enacted here, in Kashmir and within India, by entering into negotiations with New Delhi. On the contrary, statements by individual leaders seem to suggest that they are not interested in a peaceful resolution of the problems of Kashmir. Most important, if the APHC leaders were sensitive to Kashmiri opinion, they would clarify their
stand on at least three issues: Do they view the continued violence by a few militant outfits as serving political ends of the Kashmiris? Are they free agents of the Kashmiri people, or are they being pressured by forces outside Kashmir? And, finally, do they believe that that Kashmir is a political problem, which can be resolved through a dialogue, or do they consider the troubles in the State to be part of a religious war to be settled through `jehad'? It is important for the APHC leaders to remember that if they want to prevent their political marginalisation, they must not just be more sensitive to the cause of peace through dialogue, but be seen as being pro-active in initiating a process. If this chance for peace is lost, a large share of the blame will fall on the shoulders of this umbrella alliance, and Kashmiri sentiment for one will not easily forgive.
The challenge before New Delhi will become even more acute in the weeks to come. The need is to devise policies that recognise the gains made by the ceasefire, and to advance them, even while preparing to fight the consolidation in militant ranks that has taken place over the last two months. Most important, however, is to put in place policies that are addressed at the Kashmiri people, rather than at specific individuals and groups. In the absence of a dialogue, a unilateral package of economic and political incentives would be the right way to continue the peace process even if the ceasefire has to be terminated.

(Source: The Hindu, 02/02/01)

Tuesday, October 31, 2000

Dangerous liaisons: The story behind Indian think tanks



Think tanks in India are in the midst of a controversy. They are accused of being agents of foreign powers, of being personal fiefdoms of a few individuals and of being run like Masonic cults. Is there any real truth in these charges? If so, should the government take action against these think tanks? What place, if any, should think tanks have in pluralistic democracy?
As in most vibrant democracies, India has a huge number of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in almost every sector. For a country that has aspirations of becoming a great power, however, there are just a few organizations that could be loosely termed think tanks. While the number of NGOs all over the country would run into hundreds of thousands, the number of think tanks would probably not touch even 100. This is in keeping with the definition of a think tank, in the Oxford dictionary, as a "body of experts providing advice and ideas on specific national and commercial problems."
Think tanks in India fall into four categories. First are those organizations that are autonomous in their functioning, but are dependent almost completely on government funding for their survival. Then there are the thinks tanks that are identified with specific political parties. Unlike in Germany where foundations sponsored by political parties are extremely influential and well funded, think tanks closely associated with Indian political parties, with the odd exception, are rarely high profile and their influence is limited to the party they are linked with. In this sense, they resemble a caucus or a pressure group within the political party.
There are also the "umbrella" organizations that focus on the whole gamut of policy issues, ranging from economics to ecology, science and technology to security. There are not many bodies like this, and the few that exist are also now seeking to carve out a particular niche. Finally, there are think tanks devoted to specific issues. These usually work on economic problems or themes related to governance, security or defense.
Economic think tanks usually work on macro issues. These are probably the most influential of think tanks. They are generally supportive of liberalization and view globalization as a challenge and opportunity for the country. There are of course a few that are still supportive of 'swadeshi' and autarkic economic policies, but these are closely connected with tendencies within political parties. The former are often accused of supporting a World Bank-IMF driven policy agenda.
Think tanks working on governance usually focus on Center-State relations, the possibilities of decentralization and devolution including the merits of the 'Panchayati Raj' system, and the problems of specific regions such as the North East or Kashmir. In addition, some may also examine the problems posed by corruption, criminalization of politics, human rights abuses and the need for constitutional and electoral reform. Again, these think tanks are charged with strengthening centrifugal and separatist tendencies.
Finally, we have think tanks working on security issues, and, these are seen as being the most controversial. Many of them were set up during the 1990s, though there are a few that have been working on foreign policy issues since the 1960s. Researchers from within these bodies have often taken positions that go against the country's existing policy on the nuclear issue, relations with Pakistan or China. Not surprisingly, they are often openly accused of being American agents.
Many think tanks do take positions that go against government policy and the existing order. Does that make them anti-national? In a democracy, are individuals and organizations expected to conform to the government line? Isn't debate essential to true democratic functioning?
Consider first how these bodies are set up. A think tank cannot be started without registering as an NGO with the Registrar of Societies, who has to establish whether it will promote public interest. The think tank has to have properly codified byelaws that have to be consistent with democratic norms of functioning. There needs to be a governing board of at least seven members, whose interests are related to the aims of the think tank. All accounts have to verified and certified as correct by a registered chartered accountant at the end of every year.
Many independent think tanks also depend on the government for projects, or on government-sponsored funding agencies like the Indian Council for Social Science Research. They cannot get foreign funding unless the project and the funding is cleared by the Department of Economic Affairs, which one presumes also gets clearance from the Intelligence Bureau and the Ministry of External Affairs. No seminar can be organized, in which there is foreign participation, unless prior permission is obtained from the Ministry of External Affairs, the Home Ministry and the ministry directly concerned with the subject being discussed.
Admittedly, a sophisticated operation run by a foreign intelligence agency can still circumvent the lengthy bureaucratic procedure, and there may well be think tanks run by agents of foreign powers. But to what end? It would mostly mean a waste of huge resources, even if funded by intelligence agencies. Indeed, a systematic survey reveals that Indian think tanks have rarely changed policy on any issue of substance. Security think tanks, especially if run by analysts who are seen as dissenters, are rarely taken seriously even by officialdom.
An easier way for foreign intelligence agencies is to secure the services of those directly working within the government. This will buy them both information not publicly available and influence, neither of which any think tank can provide them. In other words, think tanks are a red herring; the real enemy is probably somewhere no one suspects it to be.

(Source: indiainfo.com)

Monday, October 23, 2000

Notes From A Diplomat


An Afghan Diary: Zahir Shah To Taliban, J.N.Dixit, Konark
MOST of us academics imagine that diplomats, especially ambassadors, do little more than party, sleep, scribble a few lines to headquarters (a telegram if you have a hangover, a longer dispatch if you are sober), and then party again.
Dixit's Afghan Diary proves how wrong this stereotype is. The former foreign secretary's study is largely a reproduction of a political diary he kept when he was Indian ambassador in Kabul from 1982 to 1985. The book chronicles events during that critical period and as such will be valuable source material for future historians and foreign policy analysts.
If you are, however, looking for a narrative history of Afghanistan, this is not your book. In that sense, the book title is misleading; there's just a brief summary of events from Zahir Shah's reign, through the coup by his cousin Daud in 1973, to the so-called Saur socialist revolution accompanied by the Soviet intervention in 1979. Nor is there much on events following the Soviet withdrawal, or on the Taliban's rise.
Yet, despite the limited scope, this is essential reading for anyone interested in the Afghan conundrum or the making of India's foreign policy during those difficult years. It was obvious even by 1983 that the socialist revolution had not found roots. Consider this passage written by Dixit in November 1982: "The more I live here the more I feel that the Saur Revolution was and is the result of non-Pushtoon tribes and nationalities against the Pushtoons and the feudal Farsiwan who have dominated this country since 1737.... Another aspect I discern is that the revolution has been brought about essentially by a group of middle and lower middle-class educated urban radicals."
Why then did India continue with the policy of supporting the Moscow-sponsored Afghan government, despite repeated warnings even by Badshah Khan? Why did we have to put all our eggs in the Soviet basket? Are we not reaping today the follies of our Afghan policy, left as we are without any influence or leverage there? Does Afghanistan not represent the greatest failure of our foreign policy, and Pakistan's greatest triumph, as it successfully continues the virtual conquest of its traditionally difficult neighbour? There are no easy answers, although Dixit attempts at providing some, but there was at least one diplomat, who, as India's permanent representative at the UN in 1980, disagreed with India's official stance and was forced, as a result, to move to Africa. That officer was Brajesh Mishra!
Dixit's book is not, however, just about dry politics. The encounters, anecdotes and asides alone make it a good read. Take Dr Anahita Ratebzad, the "heavy, high-breasted, heavy-thighed" politburo member, who described Pakistan as an "abortion bred by colonialism and imperialism"; or the Anand Marg swamiji who arrived from Cyprus wanting to teach the Afghans yoga; or Afghan premier Keshtamand's belief that only the Indian hair tonic Pantene could cure his baldness.

(Source: Outlook, 23/10/00)

Monday, October 16, 2000

The Jerusalem syndrome


Jerusalem is a city of stark contradictions. There is no other city in the world that is more fascinating, that has as much faith, culture and civilization associated with it. And yet, there are few cities that are in such dispute, have as much bitterness and violence associated with them.
On a first visit to Jerusalem, in relatively peaceful times, you initially notice only the serenity of the old city. Within its walls you discover the holiest Jewish site, the Western Wall, which is part of the structure built by Herod the Great in 20 B.C. and which was subsequently destroyed by the Romans. You encounter the third holiest Muslim site, the Haram ash-Sharif or Temple Mount, from where Prophet Mohammed rose to heaven. And you see the Christian sites, where Jesus was tried, crucified, buried and from where he finally resurrected.
But even as you begin to be overwhelmed by the intense spiritual experience, you begin to notice the tension, the conflict, the bitterness and the deep division among the people.
These two contradictory experiences can violently shake you up. In fact, every year hundreds of visitors have to be taken to the Kfar Shaul hospital, the state psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of western Jerusalem. There is also a phrase to describe the illness that affects visitors whose minds are torn between these two contradictory experiences: the Jerusalem syndrome.
Imagine then what it must be to live in the city permanently. Imagine then how reckless was the decision by the Israeli government to allow the opposition leader of the right-wing Likud Party, Ariel Sharon, to visit Muslim religious sites in East Jerusalem, including the third holiest Islamic shrine. The protests by the Palestinians, which led to the violence, were provoked by this visit. Only one motive could have inspired Sharon, a known hardliner who even supported the massacre of Palestinian refugees in Lebanon in the early 1980s, to make this provocative gesture: To demonstrate Israel's continued sovereignty over the Muslim sites in East Jerusalem.
Palestinian protests erupted as a direct consequence of Sharon's visit. They were limited not just to the West Bank and Gaza, as had been the case during the "intifada," but included Arabs living within the territory of Israel. What is unpardonable, however, is the use of force by the Israeli government that was totally out of proportion to the scale of the protests. It is believed that helicopter gunships, tanks and anti-tanks missiles were used to crush the protests.
Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak's attempts to demonstrate that he was not soft on the Palestinians backfired. Not only has Yasser Arafat, the chairman of the Palestinian National Authority, regained the moral high ground that he lost after he was blamed for the collapse of the Camp David Summit earlier this year, but also has Barak lost considerable support in the international community -- even among traditional supporters of Israel.
In the circumstances, the Palestinians are perfectly justified in demanding an international commission of inquiry into the incidents and have rightly rejected the deadline to arrive at a ceasefire, sought to be imposed by Barak.
It is, however, important for Arafat to also realize that sustainable peace in the region can be achieved only if all the leaders of the region have the vision to go beyond tactical considerations. The continuing tragedy of the Palestinians demonstrates that there is no alternative to a dialogue and only in a strategy of forgiveness, reconciliation and compromise is there a way out.
The frightening violence that has been witnessed in Israel and the West Bank, over the last two weeks, threatens to derail the peace process to such an extent that it will be extremely difficult to put it back on track again. It is critical, therefore, for all those who have influence and leverage over the Israeli and Palestinian leadership, especially the United States, to exercise maximum pressure to ensure a return to the negotiating table.
It must, however, be clear that the responsibility for the present crisis lies firmly on the shoulders of the Israeli government, and they must be persuaded to provide the healing touch. More than a hundred people have been killed during the violence, and - apart from a few - all of them were Arabs.
The summit in Saudi Arabia, which U.S. President Bill Clinton will attend, is only one way forward. The real summit must be between the people, who must organize themselves in such a way that politicians will not seek to divide them further.
For India the challenge is equally acute. On the one hand, it must develop a policy consistent with its traditional support for the Palestinians. On the other, it must ensure that its policies do not damage its new engagement with Israel. In other words, a balance must be struck, and that can only happen when New Delhi is seen to be speaking with honesty and integrity and not being dictated purely by tactical considerations.

(Source: indiainfo.com)

Tuesday, October 10, 2000

India looks east


If there is one region that promises to become vital to India's national interests in the years to come, it is South East Asia. Historically, South East Asia has been part of India's civilizational frontiers. Even today, there are several versions of the Indian epic Ramayana that are performed in various countries of the region.
But during the Cold War years, most of the prosperous countries from the South East that had formed the Association of South-East Asian Nations (ASEAN) were closely aligned to the United States, while India had a special relationship with the Soviet Union. Hence, India and the ASEAN countries drifted apart.
With the end of the Cold War, however, there has been some effort by New Delhi to look afresh at the region. The 'Look East' policy was part of this new vision. ASEAN made India its Sectoral Dialogue Partner in 1992 and its Full Dialogue Partner in 1996. Subsequently, India was invited to join the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), the "ASEAN-driven multilateral, security dialogue platform." With the inclusion of Myanmar, India and ASEAN are more than just maritime neighbors, they also share an over 1,600 kms. land boundary.
This engagement with ASEAN is part of a clear recognition -- on part of India's elite -- of the strategic and economic importance of the region to India's national interests. However, there remains a disjunction between thought and practice and New Delhi's engagement has still not acquired the thrust, or indeed the institutional requirements, to be able to pursue its interests in the region in a systematic and purposeful manner. India's efforts to engage ASEAN must become more determined in the years to come.
Instead of a single image of ASEAN that prevails in India, there is plurality of inter-connected images through which the Indian elite has constructed ASEAN. Four images are the most popular: as a pivot in India's 'grand strategy'; as a zone of economic opportunity; as a role model; and as a region of cultural and civilizational confluence. It is the first two images, however, which are of vital importance.
ASEAN is slowly emerging as central pivot in the Indian view of Asia and its future, and essential to the construction of a security order that will be in India's interests. This is not only because the view of the Asia-Pacific as a zone of increased threats, potential turbulence and unbridled great power rivalries, is gaining increasing currency in India, but also because ASEAN potentially shares a range of common military and non-military threats and concerns, including those related to issues as diverse as energy, economics and sustainable development.
Quite obviously, deeply concerned about the uncertainties of the future, including but not only over China's role, India is beginning to recognize the limits to which New Delhi can unilaterally "contain" a potentially belligerent Beijing and other security challenges. It would like to fashion a multilateral security order in the Asia Pacific in partnership with ASEAN.
In other words, India is not just deeply concerned about potential instability in Asia, but also willing to adopt a more active role in the future.
Foreign Minister Jaswant Singh's speech in Singapore in June this year is particularly revealing and illustrative. Jaswant Singh went on to specifically focus on Indian and Indian-ASEAN security concerns. He said: "India's parameters of security concerns clearly extend beyond confines of the convenient albeit questionable geographical definition of South Asia. South Asia was always a dubious framework for situating the Indian security paradigm. Given its size, geographical location, trade links and the Exclusive Economic Zone, India's security environment and therefore potential concerns range from the Persian Gulf to the Straits of Malacca in the West, South & East, Central Asia in the North-West, China in the North-East and South East Asia."
India's involvement in ARF, its increasing defense co-operation with individual ASEAN countries (including Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand), and particularly the co-operation between the coast guards and the navy will grow, but it is the larger element of a comprehensive strategic dialogue and a broader strategic understanding that may fashion itself in the future.
The image of ASEAN as a zone of economic opportunity is also still a strong one, despite the ups and downs in the economic relationship since 1991, the financial crisis that affected most of the ASEAN countries and India's own sluggish pace of economic reform.
India is cooperating with ASEAN countries in various fields including trade and investment, science and technology, tourism, human resources and infrastructure development. Such linkages are expected to intensify in the coming years. According to sources, "through the institution of dialogue partnership, attempts are being made to identify areas for focused interaction, including formulation of work programs and action plans."
In sum, India's engagement with ASEAN will grow steadily. While there is an obvious and growing potential within the economic arena, New Delhi will seek to cultivate the ASEAN countries, politically and strategically, more than ever before. India's presence and contribution in the ARF and Track II forums will be more regular and deeper than before.
Concern about China obviously provides an impetus, but engagement with ASEAN will be driven by larger considerations about stability in Asia and the belief that ASEAN and India share a range of common military and non-military threats, as well as largely similar perceptions of order in the region.
Bureaucratic inertia and the conservative mandarins of India's Ministry of External Affairs may not always show the energy and enthusiasm needed, but ultimately the obvious convergence of ideas and interests will ensure that India-and ASEAN will relate closely to each other in the future

(Source: indiainfo.com)