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Ayaz Amir Article (Dawn)
10th July 1999 Harsh Kapoor @mnet.fr
July 9, 1999
FYI
(South Asia Citizens Web)
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DAWN (July 9, 1999)
AYAZ AMIR COLUMN:
Victory in reverse: the great climbdown
By Ayaz Amir
THAT the Kargil adventure was ill-conceived, if not downright foolish, was
becoming clear, albeit slowly, even to the congenitally blind and
benighted.
That consequently Pakistan, swallowing its pride and not a few of its brave
and gallant words, would sooner or later have to mount a retreat was also
becoming clear, especially after Niaz Naik's secret visit to New Delhi
which was a desperate bid to get India to agree to some kind of a deal
which would provide a face-saving way out for us.
But that the climbdown when it came would be so headlong and ill-judged,
and that in the process it would leave in tatters the last shreds of
national pride, should take even prophets of doom by
surprise. A script written by a college of cynics could not have equalled,
let alone excelled, the singular performance of the Heavy Mandate in
Washington.
It is not a question of interpreting the hidden meaning of the Washington
statement. This statement is a model of clarity which nails Pakistan's
humiliation to the mast and leaves nothing to the imagination. If it is
still being proclaimed as a great step forward to resolve the Kashmir
dispute, it only confirms the view that in Pakistan brazenness is always
the last resource of a floundering government.
To repeat the first point, at issue is not Pakistan's
retreat. Given the nature of the Kargil adventure, the fact that in
planning it the army high command substituted fantasy for a sense of
reality, Pakistan had no option but to effect a roll-back eventually,
whatever armchair Rommels might say to the contrary. As a feint aimed at
embarrassing the Indian army, the Kargil operation could have made some
sense. As an attempt at permanently occupying the Kargil heights it was
madness if only because no country, whether India or Pakistan, would
tolerate such a naked trespass into territory under its control. At issue
is the manner of our retreat as agreed to by our great helmsman.
Even when it finally dawned upon Pakistan's Bismarcks
and Napoleons that the Kargil intrusion was a blunder, there was no reason
to panic. Pakistan still had options before it which, if sensibly
exercised, could have brought about a withdrawal with a minimum loss of
national dignity. We could have settled matters with India and told it
that a mistake had been made which we were willing to undo provided (1)
there was a scaling down of hostilities along the Line of Control and (2)
that India did not make it a point to crow about our discomfiture. This
would have been far preferable to the course actually adopted.
But this would have required a measure of
statesmanship, a quality of which there has been not the slightest evidence
in Islamabad since this crisis erupted. So Pakistan's war leadership did
what flowed naturally from its basic instincts: go cap-in-hand to
Washington and agree to an extraordinary statement which commits us to undo
our Kargil folly.
A pathetic sop sweetens this mini-Munich: a pledge from
the American president that once concrete steps have been taken to restore
the Line of Control - that is, once we have undone our folly - he will
take "a personal interest" in encouraging India and Pakistan to resume
bilateral discussions. Only a leadership with no idea of national pride
and dignity can suppose that an empty pledge such as this is sufficient
recompense for the blood of our martyrs.
A more complete negation of Pakistan's stand, and a
more complete vindication of India's position, is hard to envisage. Yet
official drum-beaters and Pakistan Television, that weary performer forced
to dance to every government's tune, are trying to sell the agreement
sealed at Blair House, Washington, as the greatest diplomatic triumph
since the Congress of Vienna.
The people of Pakistan are not surprised. They are
stunned because this is not what they had been led to expect. The two
surprised parties must be Clinton and Vajpayee. When Nawaz Sharif
telephoned Clinton and requested an urgent meeting, the American president,
who is no one's fool, must have realized in a flash that it was all up for
the Pakistanis. But is it far-fetched to suppose that even he must have
been taken aback by the eager enthusiasm of the Pakistani leadership to
cave in and put its signature to a one-sided document.
By the same token, Vajpayee too must have been taken by
surprise. The Indian army, despite the successes it has scored, was not
having an easy time of it in Kargil and Drass. Dangerous terrain, an
elusive enemy and heavy casualties are not things an army likes. Imagine
then the sense of relief in New Delhi when Clinton called to say that the
Pakistani leadership was about to execute a volte face and all it demanded
in return was that he (Clinton) should give this turnaround his blessing. A
bang turning to a whimper: to this time-worn phrase a fresh meaning has
been given.
The Tashkent and Simla accords look like victory
parchments by comparison. Ayub Khan did not suffer humiliation at Tashkent.
Even if the Tashkent agreement went down badly in Pakistan because official
propaganda, always a curse in this country, had raised popular expectations
to fever pitch, it was a fair agreement between two countries which had
fought each other to a standstill. At
Simla on the other hand, Pakistan was at a grave
disadvantage because it had suffered a humiliating defeat at India's hands.
Yet even in the shadow of that disaster Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, to his
enduring credit, managed to preserve what remained of Pakistan's honour.
The Washington statement defies understanding. For such submission wherein
lay the compelling necessity?
Why has this happened? The answer is simple. Pakistan
has suffered a failure of leadership, a failure of vision and, most
important of all, a failure of nerve. When the crunch came the
politico-military leadership could not take the heat.
Will explanations be demanded for this shambles? It is
safe to say no because post-mortems of this kind are not in the Pakistani
tradition. The government's spin machine will go into over-drive, as it has
already, in a bid to paint the Washington capitulation as a Roman triumph.
The Bismarcks will cover for the Napoleons and the Napoleons for the
Bismarcks.
To be sure, Pakistan's fighting men will feel betrayed.
The Kashmir cause itself has received a mortal blow. But then who cares.
Greater disasters in our history have gone unsung. The humiliation of
Kargil too (or is it the humiliation of Washington?) will soon be
forgotten.
Even so, is there nothing to be done? To begin with,
all the models of the Shaheen and Ghauri missiles, and all the replicas of
the Chaghi hills, which adorn our various cities, should be put on board
the best of our naval cruisers and, in a solemn midnight ceremony, dumped
far out into the waters of the Arabian Sea. If this crisis has proved
anything, it is that the possession of nuclear weapons does not confer
immunity from the taking of stupid decisions.
Furthermore, the prime minister and the army chief, if
they can help themselves, should not say anything for a while: no
explanations, no brave statements. The people of Pakistan can do without
salt being poured over their wounds.
