The latest bump in the India-Pakistan dialogue due to a fidayeen attack on the Pathankot airbase revives debate about Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Pakistan policy. Having assumed office riding a tsunami of expectation about ushering in a utopian India and adopting a more muscular foreign policy, particularly vis-à-vis Pakistan, the expectation was that
Mr Modi would break the cycle of terror-talks-terror afflicting India-Pakistan relations since Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee’s Lahore bus journey in February 1999.
Over the last year and a half, however, the Modi government’s Pakistan policy saw more U-turns than smart tactics. A retired 1950s batch bureaucrat, who has seen political power at the highest level, explained this as a Chanakyan tactic to befuddle the antagonist. But Chanakya faces the same criticism as Niccolò Machiavelli or Sun Tzu, that their experience was based on inter-state relations limited to their neighbours or region in a pre-modern world. They did not have to deal with nuclear weapons, global alliances or Net spread/state-sponsored jihad. Mr Modi’s mandate and instinct to redraw the contours of engagement with Pakistan was a good strategy that was badly implemented. In retrospect, a number of missteps are apparent.
First, inviting leaders of all Saarc countries to his swearing-in was a great start, followed by flip-flops on Pakistan. In August 2014, foreign secretary-level talks should not have been called off due to Pakistan’s high commissioner meeting Hurriyat leaders. India should have cited either almost non-stop breach of the ceasefire at the Line of Control by their Army or the Azadi March of Imran Khan and Muhammad Tahir-ul-Qadri that made a visit to Islamabad hazardous.
Mr Modi then was at the peak of his power, not having lost Delhi and Bihar, and any signal of support to a beleaguered elected government being undermined by sheer muscle power and tacit Army support would have been gratefully received. By the time the march ended, the civilian government had already ceded more power to the Pakistan Army, which in any case always oversees the India file.
Second, adoption of harsh anti-Pakistan rhetoric in state elections by ruling party leaders both excited Indian public opinion and irritated the Pakistani Army, which was consolidating public support after the terror attack on the military school in Peshawar in December 2014. General Raheel Sharif, through his pro-active though selective anti-terror operations in North Waziristan and Karachi, has become a revered figure whose public relations are today handled by a lieutenant-general.
Thus, when Prime Minister Modi commenced his Pakistan charm offensive in November/December 2015 in Paris, on the sidelines of the Climate Change summit, the civil-military power equation in Pakistan had already tilted firmly in favour of the Army. The replacement of Pakistan’s national security adviser, Sartaj Aziz, by a recently retired corps commander showed that the Army was now sitting at the table.
While India can convey its terror concerns directly to the source of the problem and test compliance with their pronouncements on curbing all terror, the civilian government can only urge their NSA to cooperate. It cannot instruct him. Also, as a former head of the operations in Balochistan, he is bound to confront his Indian counterpart with what Pakistan sees as Indian support to separatists. There is potential in this for an honest exchange that may wean the Pakistan Army from terror sponsorship if it finds in return satisfaction on its key concerns and interests.
For this to happen the foreign secretaries would have to re-calibrate the old eight subjects under the Composite Dialogue, add new issues like Afghanistan that can be fresh irritants and create consensus that movement on all issues at the same pace is impossible. Both sides carry the burden of their own experience and past betrayals — real and imaginary. For instance, crucial passes like Haji Pir, captured in 1965 by India, were handed back at Tashkent in 1966. If India held that pass, Pakistan would have found it much more difficult to push terrorists into the Valley since 1990s. This memory conditions the Indian Army’s unwillingness to vacate Siachen. The Pakistan Army on the other hand and, perhaps, others in Pakistan are convinced that like in 1971, India wants to salami slice them further. Unwarranted statements from Bharatiya Janata Party-connected ideologues on “Akhand Bharat” only fan Pakistan’s fears.
The lightning pace of re-engagement after the two Prime Ministers met in Paris, when within weeks it went from no talks to the surprise Modi visit to Lahore and a broad construct of fresh engagement spelt out, meant that retaliation by the Pakistani Army or their terror surrogates was perhaps inevitable. Delhi, unfortunately, handled the messaging immediately after the Pathankot attack poorly. It was clear from the beginning that the meeting of the foreign secretaries scheduled on January 15 depended now on whether or not Pakistan Army’s complicity emerged. The Modi government could have guided the public debate had they, instead of dithering, said as much straightaway.
Following the telephonic talk between the two Prime Ministers, the initial Pakistani reaction raises hope. The old template is of President Asif Ali Zardari being forced to retract his offer to send director-general, Inter-Services Intelligence, to India following the 26/11 Mumbai attacks. Now the ball is in Pakistan’s court again, or more specifically in that of their Army, via their NSA, Lt. Gen. Naseer Khan Janjua (Retd). It can be the beginning of a more honest dialogue on India-specific terror or another exercise in denial and dissimulation.
In the meanwhile, the Modi government needs to introspect how merely six fidayeen could breach the perimeter of a high-security airbase despite an intelligence alert. Responsibility needs to be fixed and holes plugged as this attack was the second one in six months in the same sector.
The writer is a former secretary in the external affairs ministry. He tweets at @ambkcsingh
