THE STATES

Of promises new and old

PRAVEEN SWAMI

The economic package Prime Minister A.B. Vajpayee promised Jammu and Kashmir during his visit to the State may prove illusory, though his speech in Srinagar has laid the foundation for the restoration of diplomatic ties with Pakistan.

Prime Minister A.B. Vajpayee, with Chief Minister Mufti Mohammad Sayeed to his right, at the Sher-e-Kashmir stadium in Srinagar on April 18.

"MAGIC," said P.C. Sorcar, "evolves in the minds of the spectators. When they fail to build a cognisable explanation of the secrets of magic, they submit themselves to the world of fantasy and sorcery."

Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee's performance at his first-ever rally in the Kashmir Valley would have impressed even the most accomplished illusionists. Standing in front of an estimated 30,000 people at the Sher-e-Kashmir stadium in Srinagar on April 18, Vajpayee conjured up a series of spectacular policy initiatives, seemingly out of thin air. He dramatically offered engagement with Pakistan, dialogue with secessionist groups, jobs, reconstruction and peace. "Spring will return to the beautiful Valley soon," Vajpayee promised, quoting a somewhat trite passage from the Kashmiri poet Ghulam Ahmed Mehjoor, "the flowers will bloom again and the nightingales will return, chirping." But the awe-struck audience, which applauded the Prime Minister, might do well to remember what he conjured up was not any more real than Sorcar's vanishing trains and Taj Mahals.

For a start, the hype surrounding Vajpayee's visit has far exceeded its actual significance. He is not, as proclaimed by a section of the media, the first Indian Prime Minister to address a public meeting in the Kashmir Valley since Rajiv Gandhi in 1987; nor the first, as Doordarshan fondly imagined, since Jawaharlal Nehru. Prime Minister H.D. Deve Gowda had addressed a rally at Uri. While it might be argued that Uri is considerably safer than Srinagar, the fact is that the Sher-e-Kashmir stadium, ensconced in a high-security zone, is no hotbed of terrorism either. Soon after Deve Gowda's visit, his successor I.K. Gujral addressed a public meeting in Rajouri. Although not in the Kashmir Valley, the town and the region that surrounds it have witnessed some of the most appalling terrorist violence of the last decade. Both Gujral and Gowda made many of the same promises as Vajpayee did - more development, new jobs, and, of course, serious dialogue.

Nonetheless, Vajpayee's remarks, coupled with his glowing support for the People's Democratic Party (PDP)-led coalition government in the State, generated euphoria. "For the first time," Chief Minister Mufti Mohammad Sayeed said on April 21, "a Prime Minister has not only made an attempt to address the issue from the soil of the Valley itself, but also extended a hand of friendship to Pakistan." Vajpayee had lavished praise on Sayeed two days earlier, during an address to the students of Kashmir University. "The elections and their aftermath," he said, "have given us a great opportunity to build upon the positive elements in the current situation. The newly elected government has taken several good initiatives and measures. The Central government is committed to working sincerely with the State government." During the rally, the Prime Minister delicately attacked the previous National Conference (N.C.) government in Srinagar, suggesting that the N.C.'s victory in 1996 was not the result of a wholly free election. Sayeed, besieged by critics in the Bharatiya Janata Party, was understandably delighted.

Source Prime Minister's Office. http://www.pmindia.nic.in/j&kpackage.pdf ^* As of March 31, 2003.

But just how real is Vajpayee's feel-good polemic? Optimists, never in short supply when it comes to official management of Jammu and Kashmir, might do well to study the status of the economic package handed out by Vajpayee during his May 2002 visit to Kashmir. Many of the promises made this time around, notably on the construction of new road and railway infrastructure, were in fact sanctioned as part of a 26-project package, on which Rs.8,687.13 crores is scheduled to be spent over five years. Some Rs.1,082.18 crores has so far been spent on these projects, eight of which are claimed to be have been fully implemented. These eight supposedly completed projects include, unbelievably enough, a grant of Rs.25 crores as incentives for members of the Special Operations Group of the Jammu and Kashmir Police - which has been disbanded by the Sayeed government. Other `implemented' projects include the upgrading of weapons and facilities for Village Defence Committees and Special Police Officers, hundreds of whom have mutinied in Doda as they have not received their salaries for several months.

Signs are that some of the long-term infrastructure projects might not fare much better. The construction of a tunnel under the Rohtang Pass between Manali and Leh has yet to move beyond the tree-felling stage. Work is yet to start on the treacherous Katra-Qazigund stretch of the Jammu-Baramulla railway line. Detailed surveys for the work, which is to be carried out by the Konkan Railway Corporation and IRCON, are yet to be completed. The delay is understandable, as the railway line will have to tunnel through the Pir Panjal mountains, but few believe that the task will be completed by the promised deadline of 2007. Where nature has not been obstructive, bureaucrats have met the task instead. Of the 15,304 kanals that are needed to build the Qazigund-Baramulla stretch of the railway line, the State government has so far made over only 6,739. "Because of non-availability of land," notes the document handed over to the Prime Minister, "the earthwork on this section has almost come to stand still [sic.]."

Like his economic promises, Vajpayee's calls for dialogue merit close examination for their actual content. The Prime Minister's speech in Srinagar has laid the foundation for the restoration of normal diplomatic relations, and what he promises will be "decisive" talks. Peace and dialogue are of course indisputable virtues, and there is little doubt about Vajpayee's commitment to both. In 1999, he defied security advisers in New Delhi and travelled to Lahore to meet Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. The next year, he responded to a brief unilateral ceasefire called by a faction of the Hizbul Mujahideen with a prolonged cutback in offensive operations, between November 2000 and May 2001. Again, the ceasefire, initially intended to last just through the holy month of Ramzan, was extended, against the advice from the military, the police and the intelligence set-up. Indeed, Vajpayee's promises during the ceasefire-period were considerably more dramatic than anything he has offered now, including, among other things, an offer to open up the road from Uri to Muzaffarabad for people who wish to visit their family members who live across the Line of Control (LoC).

Unsurprisingly enough, these grand promises came to nothing. In reality, the five-month ceasefire - officially described as a Non-Initiation of Combat Operations, or NICO - cost more lives than the bitter warfare of the years that preceded it. Classified data obtained by Frontline show that more soldiers were killed by terrorists during the Ramzan ceasefire than during the same months of previous years, and more civilians than in any period after 1996-1997 (see table). The only people for whom life became safer than in previous years were the terrorists, for the very good reason that security forces had been instructed not to hunt for them aggressively. While the intention of the ceasefire was to strip the terrorists of political legitimacy, they were in fact able to use coercion to assert their authority over civil society. In essence, then, Vajpayee's political doctrine in Jammu and Kashmir has sought to win the confidence of ordinary people, hoping that that in itself will marginalise violent groups. The objective is of course unimpeachable, but experience suggests that the strategy is inadequate. After all, terrorist groups have none of the legitimacy they had in 1990 or 1991. Yet, three times as many people die each year in the State now than at that time.

INDEED, the main consequence of Vajpayee's visit has been the initiation of an extraordinary political melee, not any real forward movement to address the war in Jammu and Kashmir. Just four days before his visit, BJP national secretary Rajnath Singh lashed out at the PDP-led coalition. The State government, he said, was giving "terrorists unstinted cooperation". He charged the Congress with having endorsed a "pernicious common minimum programme in which terrorists, murderers and separatists have been simply described as `political prisoners'." Asked about Vajpayee's endorsement of the `healing touch' policy, party president M. Venkiah Naidu responded with a dour counter-question: "Healing touch for whom? For the victims of the militants?" Consider the absurdities: Vajpayee, opposed by his own party, has supported Sayeed, much to the discomfort of Sayeed's allies in the Congress(I) and the Panther's Party. Meanwhile, he has alienated his coalition ally, the N.C., and opened up its leader Omar Abdullah to loud criticism from in-house dissidents opposed to his affiliation with the BJP, notably Khalid Suhrawardy and Dilawar Mir. Omar Abdullah has now been throwing dark hints of a possible future alliance with the Congress (I), while his father, Dr. Farooq Abdullah, has been demanding the intervention of an international mediator to resolve the Jammu and Kashmir crisis.

Beyond its entertainment value, however, this sound and fury signifies nothing. Vajpayee's Ramzan ceasefire failed, as the keys to peace lie not in Srinagar but across the border in Pakistan. And this is, perhaps, the element of his journey to Srinagar that requires the most serious examination. The sad fact is that the Jammu and Kashmir after the appointment of High Commissioners in New Delhi and Islamabad is likely to look very similar to the Jammu and Kashmir before these august personages take charge. There is little sign that General Pervez Musharraf intends to meet India's demand to end cross-border terrorism. At an April 24 meeting with delegates from the Organisation of the Islamic Conference, Pakistan Foreign Minister Khurshid Kasuri denied that his country allowed any movement across the LoC. In an interview to the British Broadcasting Corporation that day, he offered some insight into why Pakistan insists on what the world now acknowledges to be pure fiction. "If India feels cross-border terrorism would increase when the snow melts," Kasuri said, "that is all the more reason to talk. If we talk and talk soon, this feared increase in violence won't take place."

Shorn of sophistry, Kasuri's message is clear. Pakistan can ensure that an "increase in violence will not take place"; but it does not want to before a dialogue commences. That is because the jehad in Jammu and Kashmir is the only instrument Pakistan has to secure some kind of acceptable concession from India on the State's final status. With three entire Army Corps tied down by a low-intensity war that costs Pakistan some Rs.300 crores a year, India simply cannot afford to enter a serious dialogue while violence continues. Ever since the BJP came to power, much of Indian policy has been predicated on the assumption that the Untied States (U.S.) will compel Pakistan to de-escalate. It is now widely known that Operation Parakram had the tacit consent of the U.S., which believed that Indian military pressure would add credibility to its diplomatic efforts. In the event, Musharraf called the bluff. Even his U.S.-inspired ban on the Jaish-e-Mohammad and Lashkar-e-Toiba proved short-lived. Both organisations now operate freely and publicly in Pakistan, like the Hizbul Mujahideen, al-Badr, the Harkat-ul-Jihad Islami and Jamait-ul-Mujahideen, all recently designated terrorist organisations by the U.S.

Richard Haass, the Director of Policy and Planning at the State Department, made clear his country's efforts to end cross-border terrorism had failed. "To be frank," he said, "we have not succeeded and we are both frustrated and disappointed with that reality."

What then provoked Vajpayee's calls for peace? In March, U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell had proclaimed that his country would "continue to do everything we can to get a dialogue started". Since then, his Deputy Richard Armitage has described the India-Pakistan situation as "truly frightening", while Washington's administrator for Iraq, Jay Garner, has been reported to have claimed his country intends to impose a resolution to the Kashmir conflict by 2004. All this notwithstanding the fact, attested by no less than Haass, that the U.S. had failed to keep its past promises to India. After External Affairs Minister Yashwant Sinha casually spoke of the case for war against Pakistan last month, U.S. diplomatic corps went into overdrive. It is entirely possible that the

Prime Minister's main aim now is to rid himself of Western pressure. There is, of course, the prospect that the Prime Minister actually takes the U.S.' promises seriously. If that is the case, all he needs to do is look up his diaries. On May 15, 2000, Powell spoke of "new opportunities to encourage the sides to find a practical and just solution" to the conflict in Jammu and Kashmir. Soon after, Vajpayee embarked on the Ramzan ceasefire, sparking off a series of crises, the consequences of which are still there for all to see.

Even with or without pressure from the U.S. Vajpayee's problem remains. Ever since 1999, the Prime Minister has stared out at the same simple question: how India might compel Pakistan to abandon its war in Jammu and Kashmir. He has played poetry and statesmanship; he has lurched from bravado to bluster. India is still waiting for him to come up with an act that actually works.

Printer friendly page  
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail