A fortnight ago, in this column I had described the wrangle between India and Pakistan in the icy wastes of the Siachen glacier. Today, let us examine another dispute between the two neighbours. This one in the balmy waters of the west coast of India namely, Sir Creek.
Not many would recall in the days leading up to the Gujarat Assembly elections in December 2012 that the then chief minister of Gujarat, Narendra Modi, had created a minor storm in the teacup by alleging that Sir Creek was being handed over to Pakistan by the then United Progressive Alliance government. Nothing was farther from the truth. There could never have been any such move but it is typical of Mr Modi, now the Prime Minister, to mix metaphors, especially national security and politics to score odd and rather misconceived brownie points.
What is Sir Creek It is but a 96 km-long tidal estuary on the western border of the two countries. It empties itself out into the Arabian Sea. Colloquially referred to as Baan Ganga, it derives it’s present name from a British gent who was ostensibly tasked to resolve a dispute between the erstwhile ruler of Sindh and the Rao of Kutch over a pile of firewood lying on the banks of a concurrent body of water called the Kori Creek.
What is the quarrel then Is it about firewood again Unfortunately, no. It is centered around the interpretation of the frontier between the erstwhile state of Kutch and Sindh. After Independence, Sindh became a part of Pakistan and Kutch was amalgamated into the present state of Gujarat. Therefore, the dispute is about delineating the borders of India and Pakistan.
In 1914, a Bombay government resolution between the government of Sindh and the erstwhile ruler of Kutch demarcated the frontiers of the two territories by delineating the eastern flank of the creek as the boundary line. This ipso facto put Sir Creek in the territory of the province of Sindh and, therefore, according to Pakistan now in its territory.
This boundary line, also referred to as the Green Line, is disputed by India. It bases its claim on two constructs. The first is based upon a map dating back to 1925 that shows the boundary lies in the middle of the channel as delineated by the installation of mid-channel pillars dating back to the same time.
The second asserts that the Green Line is only an indicative line also referred to as the “ribbon line” in procedural gobbledygook. Moreover, the Thalweg doctrine of international law asserts that the boundaries between two states can, by mutual consent, be delimited in the middle of river channels.
It would be instructive to note that all these claims and counter claims based upon historical records pre-date the birth of two sovereign nations i.e. India and Pakistan. India was partitioned based upon lines drawn across the map of the subcontinent by a British barrister Sir Cyril Radcliffe who had never ever visited India before he embarked on his fortuitous mission.
What needs to be done is that a physical demarcation needs to be made by both the countries from the mouth of Sir Creek to it’s very top and then eastwards to a point on the line designated on the Western Terminus. From this point “thence onwards” the tribunal award of 1968 crystalises the boundary between the two countries.
Why is it proving to be difficult to draw this line It has less to do with some territory gained or lost in marshy wastes of the Rann of Kutch — through which the Sir Creek runs — and more to do with the fact that the delineation would define the land and sea terminus that then actually determines the acreage of the exclusive economic zone under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea
Pakistan has been contending that should it accept the Indian interpretation that the boundary between the two countries lies in the middle of the Creek, it would loose several thousand kilometers of it’s exclusive economic zone. India’s assertion is to the converse: Were it to accept the Pakistani claim it would be similarly disadvantaged.
For the last 47 years, many rounds of negotiations between India and Pakistan have yielded no result in terms of an abiding resolution to the dispute. Like in the case of Siachen, it is linked to the larger problems that bedevil the two countries. From India’s point of view it is terrorism and from Pakistan’s standpoint it is Kashmir.
As territorial readjustment of boundaries in the context of the Indian subcontinent is both an emotive and a cultural issue, any give or take that involves the loss or gain of territory just does not seem possible.
While loss of human lives is acceptable, the loss of territory or even a territorial swap is a non sequitur.
In the wake of the attack on the Indian Parliament on December 13, 2001, at the height of Operation Parakram, the largest mobilisation of the Indian armed forces after the 1971 war, General Pervez Musharraf, the then President and Army Chief of Pakistan, asked one of the foremost foreign strategic analysts of South Asian affairs, for a read on Indian intentions.
The analyst ostensibly told Gen. Musharraf that India would do nothing for India fights over territory and not people.
It factors in the casualties as the price of living in a bad neighbourhood and moves on. His incisive insight into the collective Indian psychological matrix proved to be prophetic. Operation Parakram ended in a whimper and even subsequent terrorist attacks by Pakistan-backed semi-state actors, including 26/11, were absorbed by India without a robust and befitting response. The bogey trotted out for this inaction is that both are nuclear weapon states and any coercive reaction can lead to disastrous consequences. However, this claim is belied by the Kargil episode when Pakistan intruded in Indian territory and, throwing all caution to the winds, the retaliation by India was swift, furious and befitting.
Given this peculiar angularity in our psyche, India would not accept any international arbitration on the premise that disputes should be resolved bilaterally and Pakistan, in turn, would not accept the Indian proposal for a demarcation of the maritime boundary under the aegis of the technical aspects of the law of the sea. It is, therefore, a stalemate much like Siachen.
What complicates matters is the perception that the area is oil, gas and mineral rich and, therefore, umbilically tied to the energy security imperatives of both the countries. This could prove to be the proverbial gamechanger.
However, here lies the crucial distinction between Siachen and Sir Creek. If the latter has oil, gas and minerals in the wider continental shelf and the disputed economic zone to be delineated in terms of how the land/sea terminus is determined, perhaps it makes a case for a joint endeavour between India and Pakistan.
The two, through their respective government or public sector entities, can demarcate acreage for joint exploration. Public sector is the key because private money is a coward and likes to find the safest harbour.
A case is repeatedly made in the Track one and a half to Track five between India and Pakistan that economic linkages, if sufficiently developed, can surmount the political and military differences between the two countries. The undefined seascape around Sir Creek could be a place to test out this claim by evolving a template.
Though this idea may sound fuzzy at the moment but as the adage goes confusion is the first stage of resolution.
The writer is a lawyer and a former Union minister. The views expressed are personal. Twitter handle @manishtewari
