Hassan Abbas
Pakistan’s Drift into Extremism: Allah, the Army and America’s War on Terror M.E. Sharpe, New York, 2005, pp. 275.
Husain Haqqani
Pakistan: Between Mosque and Military Vanguard Books, Lahore, 2005, pp. 397.
Over the decades, while the Pakistani democratic edifice continued to cave in under heavy assault from the military, one key characteristic of democracy, however, has continued to hold ground – fearless and forceful writings against dictatorship and praetorian regimes. The books by Hassan Abbas and Husain Haqqani are bold, revealing and comprehensive in encapsulating the contours of Pakistan’s 58 years of existence. By virtue of being written by Pakistani scholars, these books stand apart from the other non-Pakistani writers writing on Pakistan.
Both the authors have been witnesses and at times victims of the military regime. Both make a forceful case for ‘bailing out’ the military from politics in order to allow Pakistan to emerge as a normal state. This, of course, is difficult given the fact that past attempts at making this transition have been scuttled by the military, claiming that its intervention is necessary in the supreme national interest. A transition to a functioning and sustainable democratic polity is something which wiser minds on the subjects have long been debating and in all likelihood will continue to do so without much success.
The authors’ assertion that no credible alternative structure to the military has been nurtured in Pakistan could be subject to debate. Democracy has faltered partly because of the shortcomings of the Muslim League, lack of vision on part of Liaquat Ali Khan’s successors, over-reliance on the military to fix internal disturbances and immature personal vendetta between mainstream political leaders at the cost of democracy itself. Exploiting the shortcomings of the civilian and political players, the military has moulded the political set up through its might and machinations under its 24-years of direct and 34-years of indirect rule. Ironically, politicians themselves cannot escape the blame for facilitating the creation of the current democratic façade and being able to pose only a short-term resistance from time to time.
The authors critically discuss Pakistan’s successes and failures as a state through two different prisms. Abbas submits Pakistan’s evolution as a struggle between ‘democracy’ and ‘dictatorship’, whereas Haqqani sees Pakistan as a state oscillating between ‘mosque’ and ‘military’. In both cases, the common denominator happens to be the omnipotent military. An interesting aspect of Pakistan’s polity is that the military-democracy interface can also be understood by the military-mullah relationship and vice versa. Call it interesting or coincidental; it is an unfortunate phenomenon that has come to characterise Pakistan’s political system.
The broad suggestions one gets is that the military must withdraw from political life, that the influence of the US has been detrimental to Pakistan’s democracy and institutional development, and that there is the absence of an alternative structure to replace military in politics and governance.
While taking different interpretative approaches, the two authors also converge. For instance, ‘Islam will remain a significant factor in politics’ (Haqqani) and ‘the influence of jihadis will grow’ (Abbas). Both authors paint a rather promising future for the Islamists but in varying degrees. For Abbas, once the façade of military cracks, sooner or later, the religious parties will ascend to power. Haqqani, however, while arguing that Islam will remain a factor in politics, refrains from concluding that it will lead the Islamists to power.
While studying Islamisation and the military’s role in it, Abbas and Haqqani widely differ in flagging the reference point of Pakistan ‘drift into extremism’. Abbas considers the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the subsequent boom in madrassas and the creation of Taliban during ZiaReview ul Haq’s regime with the US’ assistance as the period when Pakistan got sucked into jihad through ‘rent-a-son’ agencies. For Haqqani, Islamisation of the people had begun even before 1947 during the struggle for Pakistan, which only hastened to extreme limits in the late 1970s. The two authors, however, are in agreement that militant Islam or the radical Islam has been “managed” and used by the establishment for political and foreign policy purposes.
Not surprisingly, the US factor in Pakistan dominates the two books. Abbas convincingly establishes US’ short and long-term policy towards Pakistan, and considers a military regime to be more useful to the US than a democratic one. The case in point to support Abbas’ assertion is the statement of General Anthony C. Zinni, Commander-in-Chief of US Central Command (CENTCOM), and a close friend of General Musharraf, before the US Senate Armed Force Service Committee on February 28, 2000:
Because of the historic importance of the military as a source of stability within the country, I believe that isolating Pakistan’s influential military establishment is and will continue to be counterproductive to our long-term interest in the region. When the US isolates the professional Pakistan military, we deny ourselves access to the most powerful institution in Pakistani society…I know Chief Executive General Pervez Musharraf well and have spoken to him on several occasions since his assumption of power. I believe that our strategic interests in south Asia and beyond will best be served by a policy of patient military to military engagement (Abbas, p. 182).
General Zinni’s statement hinted at the likely nature and various levels of US-Pakistan engagement long before the September 11 attacks, which subsequently made Pakistan a key US ally in the global war against terrorism.
Clearly democracy is a far cry in Pakistan so long as its masters in Washington see a military regime more useful to meet its strategic interests. History shows, after Zia died in 1988, democracy was restored following the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan. This reduced US’ interest in the region, seeing Pakistan come under US sanctions for its nuclear programme. A decade later, the unexpected October 1999 coup ended Pakistan’s isolation in Washington, prompting the latter to rethink Pakistan’s role in the rapidly changing regional dynamics. Come September 11, the Pakistani military again became the recipient of all kinds of US’ assistance and the Musharraf regime got the long-sought legitimacy. Amidst all this, democracy was conveniently ignored.
Husain Haqqani provides very interesting data on the politics of US aid to Pakistan. Between 1954 and 2002, US provided a total of $12.6 billion in economic and military aid to Pakistan, of which $9.9 billion were given during 24 years of military rule while $3.4 billion were provided to civilian regimes covering 19 years. Annually, on an average, $382.9 million were received from the US under military regimes and only $178.9 million under civilian leadership. All through history, Pakistan has mostly been brought into the calculus by the US to confront challenges on hand. Containment of communism in the 1950s and 1960s, Soviet expansion in 1980s in Afghanistan, nuclear proliferation concerns in the 1990s and finally, the war against terrorism at the dawn of the 21st century prove this point. Hassan Abbas establishes, “In its long association with Pakistan, America lost the forest for the trees. It saw only its army, but behind it, lost sight of Pakistan itself. The continued advancement of the army meant the concomitant impoverishment of the country and the emasculation of the nascent political process”.
The phraseology of the contents of the two books is very interesting. Abbas adopts a chronological and era-wise chapterisation taking different regimes of Ayub Khan, Yahya Khan, Z.A Bhutto, General Zia-ul Haq, Benazir Bhutto, Nawaz Sharif and General Musharraf as the broad phases of Pakistan’s evolution as a state. On the contrary, Haqqani prefers a more theme or discourse-based approach in traversing Pakistan’s history. The book opens with the identity and ideology discourse, a debate which has dominated Pakistan’s polity. The book develops around the ideological debate, discussing how Pakistan’s domestic and foreign policies were a reflection of the ideological churning within the country since its creation. Haqqani explains the Pakistan political system featuring three faultlines – ‘who should wield political power’, ‘ethnic and provincial differences’, and ‘ideological division over role of Islam in national life’, analysing that unlike India and Bangladesh where secular democracy focused on economic development, Pakistan witnessed regimes wherein civil-military oligarchy defined, protected and executed ‘identity of state’ through religious and militarist nationalism mix.
Today, Pakistan is yet to come to terms with its own ideology. With regard to India, it is ultra-Islamic. When it comes to drinking scotch, it is less Islamic. While confronted with the debate on the ‘burqa’, it is clearly anti-Islam or anti-Taliban. As Pakistan gets increasingly polarised on ethnic and provincial lines: whether it is the water issue, dam issue or for that matter the Gwadar Port, there can be no dispute on adopting an inclusive approach to a win-win solution for all. The current military approach in dealing with sectarian turbulence in Baluchistan has proved counter productive and the negotiated approach of the special parliamentary committee, led by Chaudhary Shujaat Hussain, has failed to make any headway. The alienation of the ethnic Baluchs continues unabated and the two sides look set for a long haul. Having an ideology pushed down peoples’ throats can be counter-productive and only reinforces the need for greater regional autonomy and inclusive democratic polity. Haqqani appropriately illuminates that as long as the military holds an overbearing influence in national life, the discourse on autonomy and democracy will be trampled under the jackboot because it finds it going against its institutional supremacy and interest.
Haqqani posits that the present crisis is a product or a consequence of duality of Musharraf’s policy, aimed to influence the domestic and international agenda. While espousing a policy of enlightened moderation and simultaneously seeking to retain the leverages provided by the instruments of terrorism in dealing with its neighbours, such as India, Musharraf has undermined the long-term prospects for stabilising the domestic situation. He aligns with the mullahs and resorts to the bashing of democratic and liberal forces in Pakistan by maintaining a façade of guided parliamentary democracy. Haqqani’s book, however, does not dwell in detail with the constitutional changes brought about by General Musharraf since 1999 and how democracy itself has been made the target in the name of supreme national interest. The long list of (un)constitutional amendments such as passing of the legal framework order (LFO), creation of a national security council (NSC) and uniform issue required a serious and in-depth analyses for the implications it beholds for Pakistan’s political stability and future. While Abbas briefly covers Musharraf’s anti-democratic measures, he has overlooked a range of measures that were introduced since the coup. Drawing upon his experience as a police officer, Abbas has been able to provide useful insights into the inner workings of sectarian and jihadi groups, and their impact on the society and polity of Pakistan. Chapters nine and ten of his book are particularly interesting on these counts. Be it the Kargil War, the split in the Mutahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) or the overthrow of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto in 1977, Abbas provides some startling facts and information in the course of his analyses of these events.
On the Kashmir issue, Abbas and Haqqani hold divergent views, both on the genesis of the conflict and the approach that the key actors should adopt for its resolution. Haqqani’s analysis is more academic, ponderous and qualified. His analysis is based on a realistic understanding of the power balance between India and Pakistan, and their corresponding strengths and constraints. Haqqani succeeds in placing the Kashmir issue in the right perspective. He is closer to the truth when he says, “Maharaja Hari Singh sought Indian military help and signed the instrument of accession with India to secure military assistance”. This is how India has interpreted and chronicled the events of October 1947 in the wake of Pakistan backed raid on Kashmir. In contrast, Hassan Abbas submits, “…India dispatched a contingent of Indian forces to pressure the hesitant Hindu maharaja of Kashmir, an overwhelmingly Muslim state contiguous to Pakistan, to opt for India”. Such interpretation of events will find little favour with Indian readers.
Haqqani’s prescriptions for the resolution of the conflict sound more feasible and prudent than Abbas’. For Pakistan to transcend from ideological to functional state, pragmatic peace with India over Kashmir is necessary. Without indulging in lopsided and prescriptive lecturing on Kashmir, Haqqani soberly concludes:
India’s much larger size and economic and military prowess means that Pakistan is likely to get exhausted while running hard to keep pace with India. There is no doubt that Pakistanis have strong feelings over Jammu and Kashmir, which might have been included in Pakistan in accordance with the logic of partition. But much of this strong sentiment has been produced by the constant rhetoric of Kashmir’s centrality to Pakistan’s existence that has been fed to Pakistanis on a regular basis. Fifty-eight years after partition, and in the absence of any incentive or compulsion on the part of India to revise the status quo, it might be prudent for Pakistan to give priority to normalization and stability in South Asia over settlement of the Kashmir dispute (p. 319).
Hassan Abbas fails to impress in his take on the Kashmir question, putting himself in the league of thinkers who consider any writing incomplete without a mention of the Kashmir issue. His five-step prescription, though bold, is nonetheless ambitious and formulaic. Abbas begins rationally in contextualising his proposed solutions to the Kashmir issue but soon after, the patriotic cop gets better of the Harvard scholar. He recommends:
If Pakistan is to be saved from its likely future, it must invest in its envisioned future, and start doing it now. It must start by coming to a sincere accommodation with India over Kashmir. To make this possible, India too will have to shed its present position on Kashmir and proffer an equally sincere hand of friendship, to which Pakistan could respond by creating further space and circ*mstances for India. In a second stage, India and Pakistan could work out the modalities of a jointly controlled Kashmir Valley, turning the bone of contention into a peace bridge between the two countries (p. 241).
Brilliant! Sounds like a perfect speech for General Musharraf on Pakistan’s National Day. Frankly, given the overall quality of the book Abbas should have left Kashmir to be resolved another day.
Both the books have come out at a very critical juncture in global affairs. Having conducted elections in Iraq and Afghanistan, the US has strongly conveyed its bias and preference for having a democratic regime rather than any other form of government to run the affairs. There is nothing objectionable in that until one juxtaposes it with the US’ historical relationship with the military dictators in Pakistan. To put it succinctly, the greatest test for the US’ democratic ethos and principles have time and again come from Pakistan. In 2007, it will be interesting to see if the US decides to back a democratic regime and revert its policy of achieving long-term strategic interests through a military regime.
Looking ahead to the 2007 elections in Pakistan, the two books present farsighted as well as thought-provoking perspectives on its political and religious predicaments. It raises fundamental questions. Should or will the US help bring genuine democracy in Pakistan? Will General Musharraf continue to align with mullahs keeping the mainstream parties at bay so as to keep the military supreme? Or is there a possibility that in the wake of growing extremism and rise in assassination bids on him and his corps commanders, General Musharraf provides the much-awaited space to the mainstream parties to neutralise extremist tendencies? Will the jihadis continue to grow in power and stature and come to turn the table on its own masters in uniform? Will Pakistan be able to overcome its obsession with non-existential India threat and transcend to become a more functional state from an ideological one? These questions will continue to dominate the academic as well as popular debate in Pakistan for many years to come.
Both the books after intensive exploration draw a bleak and uncertain future dominated by military and Islamists and largely ignored by the US. The glimmer of hope, if at all, to be found in the books, rests on several ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’. Hope is more dominant than conviction in envisaging Pakistan’s future as a normal state.
The Russia-Uzbekistan Treaty of Alliance Relations signed by President Vladimir Putin and President Islam Karimov at a glittering Kremlin ceremony on November 14, 2005 marked the completion of a full circle in Tashkent's relations with Moscow following the collapse of the Soviet Union. It also signified the Central Asian Republic's return to the Russian orbit.
With 26 million people, Uzbekistan is the most populous Central Asian country. Also, a sizeable number of ethnic Uzbeks live in neighbouring states. Located in the very heart of Central Asia and having common borders with all other Central Asian states, it occupies a very important position in the region. Uzbekistan is also richly endowed with natural resources like gold, uranium, gas and oil. It is the fifth largest cotton producer and the second biggest exporter of cotton in the world. Though its oil reserves are not as large as that of its neighbour Kazakhstan, Uzbek oil reserves are still a substantial 297 million barrels (according to the CIA's The World Factbook). With the biggest army in the region, Tashkent has been widely seen as entertaining ambitions of becoming the regional hegemon in the post-Soviet period. Moreover, Uzbekistan - in comparison with other Central Asian states - went the farthest in asserting its independence from Moscow. In March 1999, it withdrew from the Russia-led CIS Collective Security Pact and the Uzbek military began to be trained by the United States. However, on December 11, 1999, Russia and Uzbekistan signed a bilateral military and military-technical cooperation agreement. In June 2001, Uzbekistan joined the Shanghai Co-operation Organization (SCO), which was interpreted as reflecting the Uzbek desire to manoeuvre between Russia and China. The Uzbek elite believes that it is the major bulwark against the spread of political Islam and Islamic militancy in the former Soviet Central Asia.
Unlike Russia and many other former Soviet republics that had opted for economic "shock therapy," Uzbekistan did not suffer any steep decline in its GDP in the initial post-Soviet period largely due to its persistence with the Soviet-era economic structures. President Karimov was often quoted for having emphasized that "one should not destroy the old home till a new home is built". By the middle of the 1990s, however, the Uzbek economic model appeared to have lost steam. Socio-economic distress faced by the bulk of the population is seen as the Achilles' heel of the current system, which may be exploited by religious extremists in the absence of political space allowed to secular political opposition.
Uzbek Policy Zigzags
In the post-September 11 period, Uzbekistan was the first among the Central Asian Republics (CARs) to offer a military base at Karshi Khanabad to the USA for supporting military operations in Afghanistan in the war against terrorism. The US deployed about 1,000 military personnel at Karshi-Khanabad also known as the K-2 base. During President Karimov's visit to the USA in March 2002, USA and Uzbekistan signed the "Declaration on Strategic Partnership and Cooperation Framework". From the US point of view, strategic partnership with Uzbekistan and the appearance of the US air bases in Uzbekistan and at the Manas airport in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, were major gains in a region which was not so long ago the exclusive preserve of Moscow. What is more, the US military presence in Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan was not viewed only in the context of the ongoing military operations in Afghanistan, but was also seen as a counterweight to both the Russian and the Chinese influence in the region. It naturally evoked the ire of the latter.
The US-Uzbek strategic partnership rested on the horns of a dilemma from the beginning, buffeted as it was by vocal criticism in the West over the absence of democracy and the violation of human rights in the republic. In the fiscal year 2004, the USA withheld $10.5 million in aid, including $6.87 million in military aid, because the State Department could not certify that Uzbekistan was moving toward multiparty democracy. The 'colour' revolutions in Georgia, Ukraine and in Kyrgyzstan between 2003 and 2005 alarmed the Uzbek authorities about the dangers of a close embrace with the West. They suspected that Western NGOs were seeking to prepare opposition forces as an alternative to the present government and consequently began to place restrictions on the activities of West-aided NGOs.
President Karimov had started edging towards Moscow in a bid to follow a 'multi-vector' policy and acquiring space for manoeuvre even prior to recent precipitation of relations with the USA. The turnaround in Uzbek relations with Russia came in September 2003 at the time of President Putin's visit to Samarkand on the way from Malaysia to Moscow. Following informal talks between Putin and Karimov, Uzbek officials were told to "make friends with Russia again". By that time, a certain disenchantment with the West had set in Uzbek circles, especially with regard to the scale of Western aid. Karimov was reported to have remarked at the time, "We had hoped that the international community would meet us with open arms". These aspirations had not come true. On June 16, 2004, Uzbekistan and Russia signed the Treaty on Strategic Partnership. In October 2004, Russia was admitted to CACO (Central Asian Treaty Organization), giving it a greater official role in Central Asian geopolitics.
The May 13 violent incidents in Andijan - the Ferghana Valley city of Uzbekistan - brought to fore the great power rivalry for control over Central Asia. The Uzbek authorities were peeved by the Western demand for an independent international enquiry of the killings, and the airlifting of more than 400 Uzbek refugees to Rumania and other countries. On July 5-6, 2005, the SCO summit at Astana - to which India, Iran and Pakistan were invited as observers for the first time - called upon the USA to specify a time-frame for the withdrawal of its bases from Central Asia. Kyrgyzstan subsequently agreed to the continuation of the US air base at the Manas airport, reportedly in lieu for increased aid. However, on July 29, 2005, Uzbekistan served notice on the USA to evacuate the Karshi-Khanabad base within 180 days. Thereafter, Uzbekistan demonstrably moved closer to Russia and China. President Karimov's June 29, 2005 visit to Moscow was followed by the summit meeting of CACO at St. Petersburg on October 6, 2005, where a decision was taken to merge CACO with the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Community (EEC). President Putin described the move as "the best birthday gift" to him.
Russia-Uzbekistan Treaty of Alliance Relations
Growing camaraderie between Uzbekistan and Russia has been epitomized by the signing of the "Treaty on Alliance Relations" on November 14, 2005. "The Treaty of Alliance Relations" seems to answer the security concerns of the Uzbek regime, while it provides Russia an opportunity to reassert its influence in the geostrategically important region. The security treaty is purported to be in keeping with Article 51 of the UN Charter which allows for 'collective self-defence'. Article 2 of the Uzbek-Russia treaty stipulated that:
"If an act of aggression is committed against one of the sides by any state or group of states, this will be viewed as an act of aggression against both sides….the other side...will provide necessary assistance, including military assistance, as well as giving aid through other means at its disposal."
Article 3 of the treaty stipulates that:
"In case of emergence of a situation, which, according to the view of one of the sides, may pose a threat to peace, disturb peace or touch upon the interest of its security, as well as emergence of threat against one of the sides of the act of aggression, the sides would immediately would bring into force the mechanism of corresponding consultations for agreeing positions and coordinating practical measures for regulating such a situation"
And Article 4 opens up the possibility of a Russian base in Uzbekistan. It provides for granting "the use of military facilities" on the territories of the signatories to each other "when necessary and on the basis of separate treaties" in order to ensure security and maintain peace and stability. However, in order to avoid hurting US sensitivities, the Russians probably do not wish to immediately establish a base in Uzbekistan close on the heels of the departing US troops.
Blow to Western Strategy
Western analysts have regarded these developments as a major blow to Western strategy in the region. They are seeking to draw comfort by harping on the inherent cleavages between Russian and Chinese interests and ambitions vis-à-vis Central Asia. Beijing was reported to have contacted Kyrgyz officials in early 2005 to explore the possibility of establishing a military base in Kyrgyzstan. Subsequently, after the Uzbek government's decision to close the US base, the Russian military analyst Vladimir Mukhin was cited to have remarked that the Chinese made quiet but definite enquiries about the possibility of gaining access to the base. Beijing's moves reportedly galvanized the Russians to quickly conclude the military alliance with Uzbekistan to foreclose the possibility of the Chinese seeking to fill up the vacuum (Stephen Blank, "China Joins the Great Central Asian Base Race", at Eurasia Insight at www.eurasianet.org, November 16, 2005).
As regards the accepted wisdom in the corridors of power in many of the post-Soviet states dominated by the former Communist elites, it is increasingly becoming oriented towards ensuring 'economic' growth and prosperity first, before conditions are considered ripe for 'political' liberalization or democracy. Amidst all this, the struggle for control and influence over the post-Soviet space is intensifying.
Need for Skillful Indian Diplomacy
In view of the geopolitical tug-of-war among the major powers for control over Central Asia, India may be called upon to conduct an extremely skillful diplomacy. Central Asia, which is regarded as India's extended strategic neighbourhood, presents both challenges and opportunities. India needs to play a discreet but pro-active role to create a niche for itself. It can build on good will and considerable 'soft power' in the region in order to have a friendly, secular and stable Central Asia next to its turbulent north-western periphery.
The inaugural East Asian Summit (EAS), representing nearly 50 per cent of the world's population with 20 per cent of global trade, and comprising 16 nations that are on a dynamic path of economic development, is obviously a mega event. For India, it is yet another opening to increasingly align itself with this region and play a commensurate political and security role. There is no question that the centre of gravity is decisively moving to East Asia and developments in this region will offer great economic opportunities and pose serious challenges as well. The EAS was touted as the beginning of a new era of economic integration and a progenitor to the creation of an East Asian 'community.' There are however doubts whether the EAS can accomplish this.
When Malaysia offered to host the EAS at last year's ASEAN summit, no one had a clue about its composition or about the agenda it would pursue. It was widely believed that the EAS would provide political impetus to the process of growing regional economic linkages. East Asia is interacting with itself feverishly like never before - intra-regional trade has increased from about 40 per cent a decade back to over 55 per cent now and investments too are increasingly inward bound. The rise of gargantuan economies such as China and India will further expedite this market-driven process. This process is driven by market conditions, but there is no region-wide overarching economic or political mechanism to provide guidance to it.
Conspicuous by its absence is the United States, which has been the most dominant player in the region for more than a century. Interestingly, it is not unduly worried about its exclusion probably knowing pretty well that there has been a spate of new multilateral frameworks that came into being in the last decade and half, none of which have had much impact either economically or politically.
This is the basis for scepticism about the EAS. What can it do that other forums had earlier failed to achieve? In addition to the ASEAN Dialogue Partnership meetings with important economic powers that have been in existence since the mid-1970s, the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) was created in the early nineties with a similar objective of economic integration. It is nowhere near achieving any of its goals notwithstanding grand annual summit meetings and declarations. Another such mechanism is the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), founded in 1994 to address security-related issues exclusively. The 1995 ASEAN Concept Paper envisioned a three-stage development for the ARF -confidence building measures, preventive diplomacy, and conflict resolution. Aside from some progress in CBMs, the ARF has failed to promote transparency and a predictable pattern of relations, which it had set out to do. In fact, the ARF was found to be wanting when crises actually arose such as the East Timor issue or the North Korean nuclear problem. Another forum created in the aftermath of the 1997-98 Asian financial crisis was the ASEAN Plus Three (the three being China, Japan and South Korea) to regularly exchange views, promote economic cooperation, and ensure non-recurrence of economic crises. A+3 has also been holding annual summit-level meetings, along with ASEAN summits with India since 2002.
We thus have multiple fora of all sorts and creating one more may not make much of a difference. It is claimed, nonetheless, that the EAS is different since it also aims to create a community in the region. The idea appears to be far-fetched, for 'community' has a different connotation and certain common characteristics are indispensable to build a community. Unlike in Europe, in Asia there is not a single trait that can be said to be common or pan-Asian - religious, linguistic, ethnic, or cultural. Indeed, this region is so vast and complex, with extremely uneven levels of economic development, ridden with a large number of unresolved disputes and a heavy historical baggage of suspicion and animosity, that doubts arise whether the community idea is feasible even as a long-term goal.
Perhaps an equally important dimension is ASEAN's ability to lead the EAS. ASEAN is in a much weaker position especially after the financial crisis and has failed to emerge as an autonomous power centre that can engage the great powers and ensure regional balance. The relationship between the EAS and other fora, the impact of widening rift between Japan and China, and the future role of the United States are other issues that remain ambiguous.
As far as India is concerned, it has been a remarkable turnaround in fortunes. As late as a decade back, it was not considered worthy enough to be a member of APEC nor did it figure in the deliberations when the ARF was created. An invitation to India to the EAS now is recognition of its fast growing economic and political clout. However, a policy centred on multilateralism has its limitations. Hence, bilateral relations become crucial and moreover tend to be longer lasting. There is already a budding rivalry between China and India. India should therefore aim at firming up its ties especially with Japan and qualitatively improve its relations with countries such as Indonesia and Vietnam. With some diplomatic adroitness, India can do this not necessarily at the cost its relations with China.
Threats to human, national and international security as a result of biological warfare and pandemics are inadequately discussed in the popular media. Non-state actors are expected to use innovative methods to execute acts of terrorism. It is often contended that a terrorist organisation may well get the best results using conventional high explosives. This trend is clearly discernible in the methods used by terrorists worldwide. Manufacturing terror-grade dirty radiological or biological bombs that can be delivered effectively is far more difficult than using conventional explosives. Yet the security establishment cannot take the threat of use of bio weapons lightly. Used effectively, it has a very high probability of causing mass disruption if not destruction.
But as we debate and deploy the bulk of our resources on anthropogenic methods for acts of terror on human beings, some viruses as "gifts" of nature seem to be on mission to mutate and spread to humans. The bird or avian flu (H5N1) virus is one contemporary example. Unlike the nearly 40 to 50 million deaths recorded due to the Spanish flu of 1918-1920, this bird flu is forecast to cause nearly 150 to 200 million deaths if it mutates and gets transmitted from human to human. Mainstream international journals and magazines such as Foreign Affairs, Nature, National Geographic, Newsweek and India's very own Economic and Political Weekly amongst others have featured articles on the subject as a call to action. That the threat is hyped and driven by business interests of the powerful pharmaceutical industry is yet another view put forth. We need to remember that with the onset of global warming, the home air conditioning industry is bound to make huge profits or for that matter with the rise of obesity in India the cash registers of neighbourhood health clubs are ringing. Our preparations to deal with this threat must not be bogged down by the debates mentioned above. While all viewpoints must be deliberated upon, it is vital for the national security establishment to be prepared now rather than wait for that disaster to strike and then adopt reactive measures.
In a recently conducted bilateral round table conference between the Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses (IDSA) and the National Chengchi University (NCCU), Taiwan, a session was devoted to the challenges of avian flu. Professor Peter W S Chang from Taiwan's Department of Health gave a comprehensive presentation from Taipei's perspective. Taiwan and India have so far been safe from bird flu. One reason for Taiwan avoiding a bird flu outbreak was that it was not on the migratory routes of birds. Its isolation as an island has proved to be a blessing in disguise. According to an Indian official present at the conference, India has escaped a bird flu outbreak so far due to the fact that no major poultry farms exist near the 112 water bodies that are frequented by migratory birds. Interestingly, besides vegetarianism, the Indian habit of frying and deep cooking of chicken meat is also regarded as a reason for the inability of the virus to spread from birds to humans. However, we cannot be assured of comprehensive security by just being vegetarians or relishing the popular cooked chicken dishes or keeping our fingers crossed. The world now is much more integrated and globalised. Recall how pathogens of cholera travelled from Bangladesh to Chile in the ballast of ships. Human to human strains can well move across borders and so can infected vectors of birds and animals.
Taiwan had experienced the severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) in 2003. This was the closest to the new scenario of bird flu. Taiwan then suffered 73 human deaths and a loss of one per cent of gross domestic product (GDP). If adequate precautions are not taken and bird flu strikes then Taipei expects 10,000 deaths and a much higher loss of GDP. Having undergone the experience, it is very clear about the manner in which to take proactive measures. The reasons for concerns are that the Spanish flu virus is genetically similar to the present H5N1 strain; birds to human transmissions exists, there is 50 per cent mortality in infected human cases; once the bird virus spreads to humans and acquires human genes it can easily transmit between humans and the bird flu can impact globally within three months.
While in India we do not want the public to panic by this scare, in Taiwan the health minister is like a TV performer educating the public via the media on a daily basis. Preparations include announcing Novel Influenza virus infection as a notifiable disease, formulation of a national preparedness plan for influenza pandemics and strategies and defences termed as "3 main strategies and 4 lines of defence plans". The three main strategies comprise of infection prevention and control, Novel flu vaccines and antiviral drugs. Research and Development is in progress to manufacture a vaccine. Anti viral drugs like Tami flu is available for 0.7 per cent of the population in 2005 and this figure would increase to four per cent by 2006. The eventual goal is to stockpile drugs for 10 per cent of the population. In the four lines of defence plans, the strategy is to block the problem outside the country through international cooperation, quarantine of suspected persons on the border, strengthening health care system and health management in the community.
What lessons does this experience and practice of Taiwan for dealing with the bird flu have for India? India is a vast country with a population of over 1 billion in comparison to Taiwan's 22.6 million. There are a number of uncertainties. The effect of Tami Flu is not proven. Vaccines are yet to be manufactured after due research and development. Even if a vaccine is researched for a particular type of strain of the virus, the time for manufacturing and administering vaccines may not be sufficient enough to counter the spread of disease. Another vulnerability is of the disease surveillance system. The private sector provides 75 per cent of curative care in India. The data from private health providers are not included in any disease surveillance. The existing system is passive or has the capacity to report an occurrence. Not all the people have access to government hospitals. Most private hospitals and clinics are not in the chain of reporting of such diseases. Poverty by itself precludes timely treatment for the poor. Economic reforms have made India a tourist destination for chronic diseases, but for infectious diseases and pandemics it is unlikely that the private sector would be able to deliver. Thus an effective passive reporting system in a revived public health care system may be the first step to cope with the threat. Simultaneously, a proactive Integrated Disease Surveillance Programme must be put in place. The National Disaster Management Authority may need to carry out a reappraisal of the looming threat of bird flu. Undoubtedly, security threats have become more complex. In this particular case the link cuts across the human, animal and wildlife divide. A high degree of coordination is expected amongst doctors, veterinarians, wild life experts, the pharmaceutical industry, animal farms, the poultry sector, and the government health service, etc. Much more simulation of disaster management scenarios needs to be done. At the same time mitigation measures must be sustained in coordination with the World Health Organisation. A precautionary principle is considered the best approach.
Nepal has been in turmoil ever since the king sacked the duly elected Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and took over the direct control of government on February 1, 2005. Since then Nepal has been engulfed by relentless violence as conflict between Royal Nepalese Army, which has always been the king’s army as opposed to a national army, and the Maoist rebels has intensified and resulted in a large number of deaths and destruction. Frequent violations of human rights by the two sides have been reported. The escalating violence in Nepal has definitely created anxiety in India where many perceive that rising Maoists will not only provide moral but also material support to the radical left wing insurgency in India. These Cassandras see a Red Corridor emerging across the length of India all the way from Nepal to Tamil Nadu. Some feel India needs to fence its borders with Nepal, while others contend that under the circ*mstances India has no other option but to support the undemocratic and autocratic actions of King Gyanendra. Fencing, at a time when everyone is talking about a South Asian Economic Union, will only be a retrograde step and will drive a wedge between the Indian and Nepali populace which have long standing historical cultural and linguistic ties. Similarly, supporting the king would amount to condoning his undemocratic and reprehensible act. He has never hidden his anti-India feelings, and had also tried to use the China card to counter India in the immediate aftermath of the dismissal of the democratic dispensation in Nepal, as India along with other democratic nations was quick to criticise the King’s action. The Government of India has unambiguously stated that it would like to see the democratic setup restored in Nepal and blindly supporting the King at this juncture would not only result in ceding the moral high ground but also in losing the popular support in Nepal. Moreover, such an approach will definitely bring the Maoist insurgency across the open borders into India. Not only do we have an open border but also over seven million Nepalis are believed to be residing in India. We also have over 40,000 Nepalis serving in the Indian Armed Forces and have approximately 120,000 Indian exservicemen living in Nepal, and the disturbances in Nepal will definitely affect them.
From India’s point of view the best option would be the return of the democratic forces to the centre stage but the mainstream political forces as represented by the Nepali Congress and Nepal Communist Party (UML) have been rendered irrelevant by the King’s actions and are unlikely to command the people’s support. Popular support appears to have been polarised between the Maoists and the Royalists, though there is a silver lining. There is a large section of people who have hitherto been denied their due political rights and have still not fallen prey to the Maoist propaganda — the Hindi speaking Nepalis inhabiting the Terai Region of Nepal, who number approximately ten million.
To be honest, the democracy that existed in Nepal prior to the sacking of Prime Minister Deuba was highly flawed. Through gerrymandering, it gave disproportionately high representation to certain regions of the state while denying the people living in the Terai Region their rightful share in governance. As a result the governments that were constituted did not adequately represent the people inhabiting the Terai Region, derogatorily referred to as ‘Madheshis’. They are believed to constitute more than fifty per cent of the population of Nepal. If true representative elections were to be held in Nepal, these Madheshis would surely hold the levers of power. To deny them power, a large number of hill people have been systematically settled in this region and electoral constituencies have been drawn without any sense of geography, cultural affinity and uniformity. Whereas the hill constituencies with hardly six to eight thousand voters send one representative to the Parliament, almost seventy to eighty thousand voters elect one representative in the Terai region. On top of this some four million Madheshis have been denied citizenship certificates and are being termed as Indians.
Present day Nepal is divided into 75 districts administratively. Out of these 55 districts are hilly and snow clad and despite being larger in size, are sparsely populated. The northern border of many of these districts touches the hills of Tibet. The 20 Southern districts have common borders with West Bengal, Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Uttaranchal in India. The mother tongue of the sons of the soil in these 20 districts is Maithili, Bhojpuri, Avdhi, and other dialects of Hindi, but they interact with each other in Hindi and have Hindi as their common language of communication. These people not only speak Hindi but also are also culturally and ethnically closest to India. They physically resemble Indians and have relatives across the border. Unlike the elite inhabiting the Kathmandu Valley, who despite having migrated from India, like to denigrate things associated with India to project their separate identity, these Madheshi are proud of their language, customs and traditions and are keen to maintain close links with India. In order to prevent Madheshis from attaining their true potential, Hindi, which along with Nepali had been accorded the status of the official language in 1959, was abolished as a medium of instruction during the autocratic ‘partyless’ panchayat regime in 1965. After this the use of Hindi was banned in the Nepali parliament as well. Since 1990, some of the parliamentary representatives elected from this region have insisted on their right to speak in Hindi in parliament. Though after a lot of reluctance they have been permitted to speak in Hindi, it has not yet been recognised as the official language and as a result no record is maintained of statements made in Hindi in parliament.
In addition, during the 1970’s, when the East West Highway was constructed, a number of labourers from hill districts were settled in Terai region and many of these are included in census as well as in the electoral roles in more than one place i.e. their original place of residence as well as their newly acquired place of residence in the Terai. Some own residences in Kathmandu Valley as well and are counted thrice in census. As a result the population of the hill people tends to be inflated.
Nepal is culturally, ethnically and linguistically close to India and shares a special relationship with India. Most of the population of the Hindu Kingdom is friendly towards India but of late certain elements from the Kathmandu elite have been indulging in anti India propaganda, which has even resulted in anti India riots in the past. Peace and tranquillity in Nepal is in India’s interest. The ideal solution to Nepal’s problems would be the establishment of a truly representative parliamentary democracy with the King as purely a figurehead. For this the constituencies need to be redrawn based on population. The governments thus constituted would have fair representation of Madheshis who have relatively been less influenced by the Maoists. This government will not only be favourably disposed towards India but will also meet the aspirations of a large section of population and will be able to check the influence of the Maoists. In order to stabilise democracy in Nepal; it is also essential to transform the Royal Nepalese Army as a genuine national army with representation from each section of the population and must be made responsible to the people, parliament and the prime minister.
On December 5, 2005, the National Convention reconvened to resume the process of drafting a new Constitution. Without doubt the process of framing a new Constitution for Myanmar has been a long drawn out one. The National Convention, with over 1,000 delegates from various national races and groups, and comparable to a constituent assembly, first began its task in 1993. It last held its meetings between February 17 and March 31, 2005.
The National Convention, which the military junta reconvened, faces opposition - both domestic and international. At the international level, the opposition was in the form of the Tutu-Havel Report and in the American proposal to the UN Security Council to discuss the problem of political transition in Myanmar. The latter proposal was accepted by the UN Security Council members who agreed to discuss the problem and have the UN Secretary General Kofi Annan brief them. This brings Myanmar once again on to the centre stage.
At the domestic level, there was opposition from ethnic groups when some of its leaders were put under arrest. Eleven political parties issued a statement expressing distrust in the National Convention and sought the release of Aung San Suu Kyi. They reiterated their aspiration or:
- The establishment of a federal union.
- Equality among various ethnic groups.
- The right to self-determination of all ethnic groups.
Second was the public reaction when the SPDC undertook the relocation of its capital 400 kms north of Yangon to Pyinmana on November 6, almost exactly one month prior to the reconvening of the National Convention. It appears that the government's intention behind this move was to strengthen the military's hold. Meanwhile, the SPDC has declared that the government sponsored social organization, the Union Solidarity and Development Association (USDA) set up in 1993, may soon overtly transform itself into a political party. It claims a membership of 22 million (whereas Myanmar's total population itself is only a little over 50 million). Thus it would be logical to expect this group, modelled on Indonesia's Golkar party, to be a serious contender in any elections in the future.
The National Convention had held its deliberations between May and July 2004 after a long gap since its suspension in March 1996. Its initial meetings were convened between 1993 and 1996. The National League for Democracy, whose leader Aung San Suu Kyi's house arrest was extended on November 27, continues to boycott the Convention.
After the National Convention adjourned in July 2004, differences relating to a seven-point proposal presented by the 13 cease-fire groups participating in the Convention on June 9, 2004, surfaced. The proposal had suggested greater power to the states, including control over foreign policy for states sharing international boundaries with other countries, and the right to have separate armed forces. The National Convention Convening Commission rejected these suggestions, as they were not found to be in conformity with the six National Convention objectives and the 104 basic principles. A modus vivendi nonetheless appears to have been worked out under which the authorities agreed to put the proposal on record and the cease-fire groups agreed not to read the proposal at the plenary meeting.
It may be recalled that Myanmar has had two Constitutions: one promulgated in 1947 and the other in 1974. The Constitution of the "Union of Burma" formulated by the Constituent Assembly in 1947 delineated a quasi-federal union with a centralized Union Government and constituent (ethnic based) States supervised by State Councils. Some States (Shan and Kayah) enjoyed the right to secede after ten years. When General Ne Win captured power in 1962, he demolished the parliamentary democratic structure, suspended the Constitution and installed in its place the Revolutionary Council. The 1974 Constitution, which he put in place, stipulated a unitary State (vide Article 11). Importantly, while Article 22 guarantees the basic rights of all citizens before the law, Article 153b takes away this right by stating that the exercise of such rights must not be "to the detriment of national solidarity and the socialist social order." Needless to add, these provisions are contrary to the provisions of Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which provides for the right of freedom of opinion and expression. Following the 1988 uprising, the military reasserted itself, the Constitution was abrogated and the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC) was established [subsequently replaced in 1997 by the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC)].
The latest attempt to frame a new Constitution dates back to 1993 when the National Convention was first convened by SLORC. The National Convention's composition ensured that the military's voice would dominate its deliberations and the Constitution that would finally emerge would consequently ensure a significant place for it in the governance of the country. The NLD participated in the National Convention initially but walked out of it in December 1995. It did not wish to fritter away the legitimacy it had secured in 1990 by participating in a National Convention in which it was only a small constituent. The SLORC had annulled these election results - its contention being that these elections were meant to select representatives for a constitution-drafting body rather than a national assembly. Discussions in the National Convention led to specific chapter headings for the Constitution and the basic principles for each of the chapters. These principles were then approved by the National Convention Convening Commission. Now, based on this consensus, the elected representatives have to draft a new Constitution (with assistance and suggestions from the SPDC). The draft would then be put to a national referendum. In the meantime sovereign power would reside with the SPDC.
The SPDC is under renewed pressure from the West and ASEAN. It will have to convince the world community about the seriousness with which it is implementing political reforms. It appears intent on going ahead with the seven-point road to democracy. The systematic manner in which the SPDC is proceeding with the National Convention would indicate that it has a set plan in mind. Is it willing to make fundamental changes to that plan to accommodate international pressures for the release of Aung San Suu Kyi? Would the international community and the neighbours especially be prepared to accept the consequences of any disturbance that may follow? Is the neighbourhood ready to accept an influx of refugees if a prolonged civil war ensues? Are there credible and capable institutions within the country which could ensure stability in a post-conflict Myanmar? Answers to these questions would indicate the likely manner in which the political transition might unfold. Be that as it may, the long years of rule by the military has drained other institutions within the country of their strength. To ensure a smooth process of regime transition, a step-by-step approach to democracy, rather than an externally imposed solution, would be a preferred alternative.
The 34th anniversary of the liberation of Dhaka and the creation of Bangladesh on December 16 is an occasion for concern and deep introspection about the nature of the internal turbulence in that country and the related implications for India.
It may be recalled that prior to December 16, 1971, what is now known as Bangladesh was East Pakistan and for almost 24 years from August 1947, the military leadership of Pakistan treated the eastern part of the country as a poor relative.
Years of neglect and exploitation peaked in 1970 when the late Sheikh Mujibur Rehman emerged as a credible political alternative to the West Pakistan political elite but the then Pakistan Foreign Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto stoked the flames of sectarian identity pitting the Bengali Pakistani against his peers in West Pakistan.
Under normal circ*mstances, Sheikh Mujib, who had won the national elections, ought to have been nominated as the Prime Minister of Pakistan but the Western part of the country was determined not to let power slip from its fingers and thus began a gory cycle of repression and killing of the citizens of East Pakistan by their own military. Local resistance to such oppression and political intimidation grew under Mujib and the Mukti Bahini and while it was potent, it could not prevent the genocide that followed.
By the time of the liberation of Dhaka in December 1971, almost three million citizens of East Pakistan were victims of mass killing and rape. The global community, led by the US, alas, chose to be silent spectators and this will remain one of the more shameful chapters of the Cold War decades.
India was drawn into the developments and had to deal with a challenge of 10 million refugees from East Pakistan seeking shelter in the country. It was a daunting task by any stretch of imagination. And with no help from the global community, India was able to provide succour and moral support that later led to Delhi being drawn into the war that followed.
The 1971 Indo-Pak war finally led to the surrender ceremony in Dhaka where the Pakistani military leadership accepted defeat, which resulted in the birth of Bangladesh. The political geography of the sub-continent was re-drawn after August 1947 and it was irrevocably established that religion alone could not be the basis for national identity and that in this case, ethnicity, language and a deeper socio-cultural preference had to be acknowledged. Pakistan was dismembered in two and its military had the dubious distinction of the blood of three million of its own citizenry on its hands.
India may have scored an emphatic military victory in late 1971 but the political gains that should have normally accrued seem to be more elusive now 34 years after the birth of Bangladesh. Friday, December 16, will be suitably commemorated in India as the first Vijay Diwas (the second was Kargil in the summer of 1999) and hopefully the Unknown Soldier who symbolises all those Indian 'faujis' who laid down their lives for country and flag will be remembered. This is also an opportune moment to take stock of the trajectory that the new nation- Bangladesh - has taken in the last four decades.
Today, Bangladesh stands at a crucial fork. It has a population of almost 140 million and in the last two decades, an assertive and militant constituency in the country has sought to define itself more as an Islamic state with the liberal Bengali identity being relegated to the background. Internecine political rivalry has seen the military and the mullah being co-opted for short-term opportunistic gains and this trend has been further exacerbated by the prevailing post 9/11 international undercurrent which unfortunately pits Islam against the US-led West.
With its large population base and impoverished socio-economic profile, Bangladesh has become a safe haven for nurturing religious extremism and jihad by groups whose origins lie in Pakistan-Afghanistan and parts of West Asia. The ambivalent attitude of the ruling party-the BNP led by Begum Khalida Zia – appears to be emboldening the local terrorist groups.
Consequently, the country has been subjected to a series of terrorist-related events this year, the most dramatic being the 434 simultaneous bomb blasts across the entire country on August 17. The months that followed witnessed concerted attempts to attack the judiciary and the symbols of state, such as police stations and courts, and the most recent was the suicide attack on December 8 in two towns that resulted in the death of six people with almost 50 injured including policemen. The banned Jamatul Mujahedin Bangladesh (JMB) has claimed responsibility and the group has also distributed literature demanding that the government introduce the Islamic code and has warned women not to be seen without veils.
In the past, right wing groups have threatened to convert Bangladesh with its liberal, tolerant ethos into a Taliban clone and this has led to considerable internal dissonance. The socio-cultural ethos of Bengal which predates its modern political history beginning with the early 20th century is now being challenged and much of the future course of events will depend on the degree to which the major political parties are able to join hands in strengthening the liberal spectrum in Bangladesh civil society.
The fork that Bangladesh is poised at and the direction it will take will have significant implications for the internal stability of its own society and for regional stability as well. Currently it has a GDP of US $ 57 billion and a growth rate of 5.5 per cent. It has shown encouraging signs by way of increasing its share of services and manufactured goods towards GDP growth while agriculture has reduced.
Its work force has shown commendable empathy for trade in areas like textiles and IT and, most importantly, Bangladesh has visibly demonstrated that it can be a tolerant Islamic society in the main. The country's development indicators including family planning and female literacy are impressive by South Asian standards and its NGO sector is robust-though it is ranked among the most corrupt states by way of the governance index.
In short, despite certain constraints, the country is well positioned to consolidate its advantages against the backdrop of globalisation and its resources such as natural gas could be harnessed in a positive manner. But none of this will fructify if the polity is internally fractured over religion and 'adversary' and what constitutes the abiding national interest. The experience of Pakistan and its own tragic trajectory where the military and the mullahs entered into an unholy alliance to stoke a distorted version of Islam and the interpretation of 'jihad' are case in point.
It is obvious that a stable, prosperous and moderate Bangladesh would be in India's long-term interest. The anxiety about illegal immigration into India is real but it can only be meaningfully addressed when the internal situation in that country is conducive to the retention of its people. As the 34th anniversary of the Liberation War approaches, both state and civil society in India and Bangladesh would be well advised to ponder over these complex linkages and evolve an appropriate long term strategy that would advance their respective national interest in a complementary and consensual manner.
In 2001, Uzbekistan opted to become the linchpin of US policy goals in Central Asia. It was then argued that Washington would guarantee the nurturing of geo-political pluralism in the region. This was viewed against the backdrop of the historical ascendancy of China and the imperial decline of Russia. Much has happened since then. Today the US is facing a deadline to quit its airbase in Karshi-Khanabad (K-2), set up in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, because of Tashkent’s suspicion that Washington had plotted the revolt in Andijan on May 13, which led to a bloody massacre. Following protracted information warfare, the US helped airlift 439 Uzbek refugees from Kyrgyzstan to Romania on 29 July in the garb of a UN operation. Hours later, an infuriated Karimov gave the US 180 days to quit. Karimov finally discovered America’s opportunistic aspect and feared that a plot was aimed at regime change a la Georgia, Ukraine, and Kyrgyzstan.
In Central Asia, things are likely to get worse before they get better. In a recent conference at Tashkent, Russian strategic pundits displayed utmost self-confidence in predicting a triumphant Russian re-entry into the region. The Andijan crisis may have triggered the current Uzbek-US rift, but political pressure from Moscow has probably played a part in exacerbating it further. Moscow, it seems, has taken full advantage of US entanglement in Iraq to re-claim Central Asia within its sphere of influence. Signs of an Uzbek rapprochement with Russia were visible from last year when Karimov favoured Russia’s Gazprom and LUKoil rather than US firms for long-term investments in Uzbekistan’s gas fields. Gossip doing the rounds is that Karimov’s daughter, Gulnara, who is facing an arrest warrant for contempt of court over a divorce case, managed to cut a major business deal with a Russian oligarch. This was a vital factor for the change in Uzbek foreign policy orientation.
In the current balance of advantage, Islam Karimov has hopped off the fence to embrace Russia and is using the China-driven SCO to contain American presence in the region. The Tashkent conference was sponsored by the Moscow based think tank Fund Politika led by Vyacheslav Nikonov, who inter alia was in Tashkent in June to spin-doctor the Uzbek counterattack against Western media.
The Uzbeks appear to have run out of options in their initial approach of playing a ‘multi-strategic’ game, which they thought would serve several objectives ranging from curbing terrorism, WMD, fundamentalism and drug trafficking. They perceive the US as not reciprocating their support for the war against terror, and instead, see it playing the old game. Tashkent’s accusation that a joint US, NATO, and EU resolution seeking investigation into the Andijan killings was prepared prior to the unrest, cannot be verified. By giving 180 days deadline for the US to leave, Tashkent seems to have left no room for a diplomatic settlement of the imbroglio. The US says it is prepared to vacate K-2. Some Uzbeks probably still feel that moderation is required if there is to be any hope of bridging the rift.
The turning point for Washington was the July 5 SCO summit in Astana, when Central Asian states, guided by China and Russia, set a deadline for ending US military presence in the region. The Chinese perceive the US motivation for seeking regime change in Central Asia as a stepping-stone for pursuing its policy goals in Xinjiang, where a movement for independent Uighuristan is gaining momentum. Uzbekistan might have given the US six months to leave, but Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, following Rumsfeld’s visit on July 25, continue to favour the US presence until stability returns to Afghanistan. Bishkek is seeking amendments in the air base agreement to allow for more payments by US. Perhaps, more alarming to Washington was Peace Mission 2005 – the first ever Sino-Russian military manoeuvres in August, which made Rumsfeld rush to East Asia to ascertain the seriousness of the situation firsthand.
Unable to match Russian and Chinese localized strengths, the US is relying on its strategy of promoting democracy and human rights to bring about democratic change in Central Asia. Assistant Secretary Daniel Fried and Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice toured the region last month to boost the morale of opposition and democratic forces and did not hide their support for pro-democracy and civil society groups. Last month, Congressman Christopher Smith (Republican) announced legislation to halt both military and humanitarian aid to Central Asian governments that fail to democratise or respect human rights.
Meanwhile, rumours about the US seeking alternative bases elsewhere and a new air base in Turkmenistan have been immediately addressed by Moscow. Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov dashed to Ashghabat on October 21, where he was assured by Turkmanbashi that such a move was not on the cards. This fear arose when Turkmenistan recently renounced its membership of the CIS.
The overwhelming impression one is left with is that Andijan has led to paranoia among Uzbeks. They admit committing certain mistakes but are willing to seek support and ideas to overcome the tragedy. The Taliban’s resurgence, neighbours armed with nuclear weapons and the infiltration of terrorists belonging to Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, Hizb-ut-Tahrir and Akramiya trained in Pakistan, remain Uzbekistan’s real concerns. Tashkent perceives contrasting policies being pursued by Turkmenistan and Kyrgyzstan; while the former is trying to distance itself from the region, the latter has become a member of the WTO and is actively engaged in opening itself up to the world. In Tashkent’s view, these contrasting policies create more problems rather than addressing issues concerning regional integration.
Moscow sees Central Asia as its natural domain and as such cautions the US against over-stretching itself. Russians fear US involvement might end up orienting Central Asia towards the Middle Eastern political culture and envisage the Iraq situation sparking up sectarian conflict across the region from Pakistan to Uzbekistan. Russian thinkers prefer the region orienting itself to the North East Asian dynamic as part of its second phase integration programme for Central Asia. Moreover, Russians pin much hope on the time-tested long history of a harmonious relationship between Central Asian Islam and Orthodox Christianity. The fact that for over a hundred years, Muslims of Central Asia were closer to Russia than even many Russians living in Russia brings optimism for the new Russian plan to be successful. However, for Uzbeks, reintegration with Russia could be possible only if Moscow realizes and overcomes past Soviet mistakes in dealing with the region. A Russia-centric economic plan for Central Asia is certainly not something the Uzbeks want. Uzbek preconditions are many including their desire to develop transportation links to the Indian Ocean and also Russia’s ability to resolve difficult Uzbek-Kazakh relations.
The key question remains whether Moscow, before going ahead, would trust Karimov since he proved quite deceitful in the past. Karimov severed all ties with Russia, opted out of the Collective Security Treaty and played on anti-Russian rhetoric that led to over 2 million ethnic Russians being forced to leave Uzbekistan. What kind of prize would Tashkent be willing to pay for Russian and Chinese support? The Russian Foreign Minister was in Tashkent on 21 October to chart a future roadmap. Moscow would prefer to first let US forces leave K-2 before talking about Tashkent’s re-entry into CSTO. It is only then that Moscow will seek to install in Tashkent a leader of its choice.
For the time being, both the US and Uzbekistan are hoping to gain something by demonising the Andijan event. It is quite possible that the adept Karimov finds it necessary to balance off big-country interests at this point of time. I carried home the impression that Uzbeks themselves are somewhat unsure about the implications of fully going along with Russia once again. Prominent Uzbek experts like Farkhad Tolipov, who criticised Karimov’s miscalculation in denouncing the US, seemed to have been purged, as he was conspicuously absent in the conference.
There appears to be a near-unanimity about India’s potential role of playing the role of a balancer in the regional power game in Central Asia. Analysts (within and outside the region) wonder about India’s reluctance to play the great game on the Central Asian chessboard, considering the undeniable geo-political significance of the region with its huge energy resources. India enjoys a ready psychological acceptance in the region, as compared to the utter distrust felt towards China and Pakistan. Most outside experts noted India’s potential ability to contribute to the stability of Central Asia, in contrast to what it is doing now. It must be underlined that in Central Asia the Soviet legacy of thinking and operating through a structured framework continues to dominate people’s mindset. India, as an emerging power, ought to be interested in defining its own geopolitical goal in Central Asia, instead of moving in a piecemeal ‘bilateral’ fashion. India’s bidding for PetroKazakhstan Company is being seen as symptomatic of its inclination to play the Central Asian game.
In this reconfiguration and regional power game, which is as yet, at a nascent stage, a point that worries everyone, including the US, Russia and Central Asians themselves, is the new factor of China’s growing influence. China is clearly seeking interests beyond Central Asia.
The resignation of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon from the ruling Likud party in Israel has set off reverberations not only within Israel but at the regional level as well. Many Israelis and Palestinians, both politicians and scholars, believe that Sharon’s decision to leave the Likud has brought about a political earthquake that could realign not just the political configuration within Israel but also have a significant effect on the peace process. His decision to leave the party ensued following intense opposition from fellow Likud members over the unilateral disengagement plan, which he had originally conceived. The plan witnessed the evacuation of over 8,000 Israelis from 21 settlements in the Gaza Strip and hundreds more from four settlements in North West Bank in mid-August, leaving the Gaza Strip under the limited authority of the Palestinians for the first time since 1948. In addition, the decision of the new Labour leader Amir Peretz to withdraw his party from the National Unity government also acted as a catalyst, thus hastening the next parliamentary election to March 2006.
The domestic political turbulence in Israel, coupled with suicide bombings, violence, and pandemonium within the Palestinian political arena, has left the peace process, or what is left of it, in shambles. The result of the next Parliamentary elections should, however, provide an indication as to the contours of any future peace deal between the Israelis and Palestinians. Thus, Sharon’s political manoeuvring calls for a deeper understanding of Israeli politics, leaders and trends as well as a relook at some of his past actions. He was responsible for the establishment of the settlements, was a co-founder of the right-wing Likud party, was the mastermind behind Lebanon’s invasion, and was also held indirectly responsible for Christian militiamen massacring Palestinians in two refugee camps. However, by tempering his extremist policies in the past few years, he has tried to cater to national as well as international interests, thus validating the contention that the reasons for disengagement go beyond merely security concerns. Sharon’s domestic compulsions include demographic concerns about the emergence of an Arab majority within Israel, which would undermine the very essence of the Jewish state. In addition to this was the high cost of sustaining the settlers and maintaining the military presence in Gaza.
As expected by Sharon and his supporters, the security situation has not been very stable after the August disengagement. September saw increased hostilities between Hamas and the Israeli Defence Forces, confirming the fears and reservations of those sceptical of the plan’s success. These reservations eventually culminated in intra-Likud dissent and to Benjamin Netanyahu challenging Sharon’s leadership of the party. Though Sharon emerged the winner in this contest, continued opposition eventually forced him to leave the party and form a new one of his own.
Kadima: The March Forward
The name of this nascent party, Kadima (forward), itself suggests that Sharon has defined its objectives very differently from those of the Likud. His centrist party aims to move away from the original Likud right wing extremist thinking, which includes blocking any further future withdrawals. And though Sharon himself has reiterated that there will be no further withdrawals, there is a sense that there could be some form of territorial compromise in the future in the process of striving for his goal to “lay the foundation” towards the “final borders of the state.”
Sharon’s decision to quit the Likud could also be interpreted as sending a signal that he has transformed himself from an extremist to a moderate politician. In other words, he quit the party because its policies and beliefs were constraining his ability to work towards a peace process as envisaged by him, through which he wishes to emerge as the leader who at last defined Israel’s borders. Additionally, Sharon was unhappy about leading a party that was ridden by dissent and constant struggle. His continued stay in the Likud would have made him a hostage to the policies of either the Left or the Right.
A public opinion poll conducted subsequent to his resignation by the Israeli newspaper Haaretz suggested that Kadima would win about 37 seats and the Likud Party reduced to a mere nine seats in the next parliament. This highlights the shift in Israeli public opinion: from considering the idea of a Palestinian state as a taboo initially, to understanding the risks and dilemmas involved in occupying Palestinian territories, and finally accepting the ‘two-state’ option. Israelis believe that Sharon is one leader who could forge a deal with the Palestinians without at the same time compromising on Israel’s security.
However, Sharon’s political agenda of territorial compensation does not imply that a future peace agreement will involve Palestinians and their interests. The ongoing construction of the fence, building of new houses in settlements like Maale Adumim (in West Bank), and the E1 corridor connecting this settlement to East Jerusalem and eventually encircling it, controlling Gaza's borders, coastline, and airspace and retaining the right to re-enter the Palestinian territory anytime at will clearly highlights the unilateral character and maximalist nature of Sharon’s political agenda. By sidelining core issues like borders, the status of Jerusalem, right of return, settlements, etc., which are the main bone of contention, Sharon’s purpose seems to be, to place the peace process in “formaldehyde.” Even the latest effort in peacemaking i.e. the Road Map has been consigned to oblivion by incessant violence and the exclusion of core issues from the negotiations.
Sharon’s Challenges: Securing Insecurities?
But Sharon faces a difficult path to tread upon, as some of the challenges he faces include garnering enough support from other parties to form a coalition government led by Kadima, while at the same time attempting to change the trend of Centrist parties not performing too well in Israeli politics. In addition, he has to deal with his Palestinian counterpart Mahmud Abbas along with the ever-looming threat of Islamic fundamentalist groups like Hamas and their decision to enter the political fray. As an Israeli political commentator has stated, Sharon will have to “successfully use the Palestinian Authority’s inability to dismantle the infrastructure of terrorist organizations and the rising political power of Hamas to resist pressure that may develop for a rapid and unsatisfactorily deal.”
These challenges have definitely been made a little easier by the support offered by Shimon Peres, the grand old man of Israeli politics and the former Labour leader, who joined Sharon and is backing him in his political endeavours. Thus, the next parliamentary elections will see three parties contesting i.e. the Likud, the Labour and the Kadima, in which the Labour party under Amir Peretz will stress on socio-economic issues, the Likud on an equal trade-off deal of land for peace with the Palestinians, and Kadima on preserving the Jewish majority within a democratic Israel. Here it would be pertinent to note that the difference between the Likud and Kadima is not over ideology but about the manner in which Israel’s security concerns have to be addressed; in effect, they advocate similar goals but through different means.
On the Palestinian side, Sharon’s resignation was perceived, in the words of the chief Palestinian negotiator Saeb Erekat, as “a volcano erupting.” But for the Palestinian man on the street, it matters less at this point of time whether the Likud or the Labour rules. What is more important is the time frame for, and the nature of, a future Palestinian state. The recent suicide bombings by the Islamic Jihad only reaffirms the fact that the peace process will continue to witness violence even as political negotiations carry on simultaneously.
The disengagement, Sharon’s decision to resign, formation of Kadima, Likud’s projected bleak future simply revisits the debate over politics continuing to dominate security and will have an adverse effect in the region. If Sharon were re-elected as the Prime Minister then one would witness the continuation of his policies. If the Labour comes to power under Peretz then security concerns would take a backseat to socio-economic issues. And Netanyahu as Prime Minister would definitely rule out any territorial compensation in the West Bank and adopt more stringent means towards the Palestinians. However, the result of the elections in March 2006 cannot be accurately predicted despite Sharon’s prevailing popularity, since three months are a long time for opinions, perceptions and leaders to change in Israel. One can only hope that the ongoing violence and political turmoil does not portend more tumultuous times ahead for the Israelis as well as Palestinians.
There are embryonic signs that Washington is all set to turn the heat on Myanmar next. The UN Security Council finally agreed unanimously on December 2 to a US request for a “one-off briefing” by the Secretary-General on “the deteriorating situation” in Myanmar. The US request followed the Tatmadow’s extension of Aung San Suu Kyi’s house arrest and a UN Committee resolution condemning Myanmar’s human rights abuse.
Washington raised Myanmar’s growing threat to international peace and security, citing problems caused by illicit narcotics, human rights abuses, internal repression – destroying villages, targeting minorities, and forcing people to flee the country. The US also cited the junta seeking nuclear capabilities.
At the recent APEC meeting in Busan, President Bush pledged to help restore democracy in Myanmar, while Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice described the junta as “one of the worst regimes in the world.” In July 2003, Bush had signed the Burma Freedom and Democracy Act that banned imports from Myanmar.
What came on the heels of the recent US assertion was a 124-page report by the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (AAPP) revealing shocking details of the junta’s ‘brutal and systematic’ abuse of political prisoners (1,100 prisoners are still under detention). President Bush’s recent 50-minute meeting with a Shan human rights campaigner, Charm Tong, indicates the gravity with which the United States views the situation in that country. The junta’s move to a new capital, Pyinmana, triggered by its fear of a possible US attack – reinforced by the invasion of Iraq – has led to the displacement of thousands of people.
The campaign to introduce the Myanmar issue into the agenda of the UNSC has been underway for some time. A report by Nobel laureates Vaclav Havel and Desmond Tutu – Threat to the Peace: A Call for the UN Security Council to Act in Burma – has had considerable impact on the world body. Their success in blocking Myanmar from taking over the chairmanship of ASEAN for 2006 seems to have also encouraged the West to push for change. The UN remains critical of Suu Kyi’s detention. But China, Russia and other Council members reject the notion that Myanmar’s situation poses a threat to international peace and security. Despite the ouster of Beijing favourite Khin Nuynt, China supports the junta, with Wen Jiabao asserting in July that China will not change its Myanmar policy “no matter how the international situation fluctuates.”
The Bush administration’s ringing of the alarm bell about Myanmar acquiring WMD capabilities is significant. Yangon acquiring ballistic missiles and its announcement on developing a nuclear facility with Russian Minatom’s assistance since 2002 have raised many eyebrows. The project, stalled earlier due to financial reasons, seems to have been revived now. Minatom is to construct a 10 mega-watt pool-type reactor in Kyaukse near Mandalay. But an IAEA team, which visited Myanmar in 2001, expressed doubts about the country’s preparedness to maintain safety standards. There were reports suggesting that North Korea may take over the project from Russia. Moreover, Pakistani nuclear experts too have been visiting Myanmar since 2001, including a recent delegation led by Zaifullah to Pyinmana. These developments, along with the junta’s plans to acquire an additional squadron of Russian MIG-25s, have led to growing suspicions about Myanmar becoming the next problem state for America.
The junta’s reconvening on December 5 of the National Convention (NC) to draft a new constitution as part of its 7-step Roadmap to form a “genuine and disciplined democratic system” lacks a specific time frame or itinerary; and is also vague on important details of the “transition process”. The chart (a better word than map) shows the junta effectively controlling all the procedures and processes of “democratization”. The Tatmadow wants to exercise complete control over both the road and the map. Its new law No. 5/96 severely restricts open debate, which could be enforced against those opposing the new format. The opposition remains equally steadfast on restricting the Tatmadow’s future role in politics. The ceasefire with insurgents appears fragile; more so with those still outside the legal fold and therefore seek greater protection for their rights. These factors, along with the power struggle within the junta which became intense after Khin Nyunt’s departure, could derail the NC process. The NC’s lack of credibility is another issue, as Western powers threw their weight behind the opposition. But the junta considers the recovening of the NC as a delicate juncture in the democratisation process and as such, the release of SUU KYI and Tin Oo could disrupt the process. Their release is therefore unlikely to come about until the main principles of the Constitution are ready and the way is clear for a referendum. SUU KYI’s popularity undoubtedly remains intact but some of the pro-democracy groups and ranks within NLD are not happy with her leadership style.
The blocking of Yangon’s chairmanship has exposed ASEAN’s own credibility, and so far, neither the ASEAN engagement strategy nor the punitive sanction policy used by USA and EU has produced any positive results. A section in the US thinks that sanctions would not work against Myanmar because it is a pre-industrial state and can limp along on its own, even if placed under sanctions. There is merit in this argument because the limits and effectiveness of sanctions have been explored, both theoretically and empirically.
Tatmadow cannot be wished away easily. But the junta’s rationalization that it exercises power to protect the country’s sovereignty and territorial integrity appears to be both an exaggeration and an illusion. Given the failure of the West and ASEAN to break the impasse, there is an increasing need for the UN along with China, India and Thailand to start a trilateral process under the “1+3 framework” to map out an Action Plan as a starting point for an agreed, workable (not theoretical or dogmatic) approach to breaking the vicious cycle of exaggerated expectations and ground realities. After securing the confidence of all concerned parties, the group could work out phased procedures and mechanisms to assist the reconciliation process. The group should guarantee Myanmar’s security interests. A coordinated EU, US, Japan and ASEAN approaches by way of economic measures in support of the 1+3 is necessary. Once the Action Plan is accepted, the West could lift sanctions. Meanwhile, the UN should consider mollifying Tatmadow by engaging its professional military in international peace keeping and peace building missions.
India being Myanmar’s neighbour cannot ignore China’s changing Myanmar policy. Beijing could be making conciliatory gestures towards the opposition leader without antagonizing the junta in the belief that without the NLD’s participation the process could be long and difficult. India has quietly supported the democratic process in many neighbouring countries, including Myanmar. If we are not careful, the democratic agenda supported by India for many, many years could be usurped by China. India's interest also lies in preventing the US fomenting crisis in our strategic neighbourhood.
