First deafened by the terrifying noise of Taliban attacks, then put on
notice that the army would strike back, and now awaiting the outcome of
peace talks, Pakistanis remain as confused as ever about the violent
phenomenon that has plagued their country for six years, and has been a
mounting threat to it for a lot longer.
Increasingly,
however, they are beginning to ask the right questions: can we beat the
Taliban? What would a peace deal with the Taliban mean? What will
happen after the Americans leave Afghanistan?
The answer:
ultimately, Pakistan can’t win until the state and public open their
hearts and minds to the bitter truths of their situation.
The
inference to be drawn from that is that the dishonest, often duplicitous
political narrative of Pakistan’s domestic power struggles and regional
security objectives is the root of the problem.
Let’s draw up a list of home truths that need to be accepted if Pakistan is to wriggle itself out of the tightest of corners.
First, there is no such thing as the “good” Taliban.
The
reason Pakistan has a Taliban problem, which has caused more than
40,000 deaths (and counting), is that its military is still addicted to
using covert militant warriors as the primary means of pursuing its
so-called national interest.
Over the past year, the anti-India
militant groups sidelined for a decade, and particularly since the
November 2008 terrorist rampage in Mumbai, have been reactivated. It’s
no coincidence there was significant warfare along the disputed Kashmir
border last year.
Worse, the military relies on the Haqqani
Network terrorists to keep the peace in South and North Waziristan,
allowing them to operate a state within the state, because it gives them
a seat at the Afghanistan end-game, and helps keep the Pakistani
Taliban at bay.
Sure, that is characteristic of the so-called
Great Game played in Afghanistan since the 19th century. But, time and
again, it’s also been proven that once a genie has been released from
the lamp, he won’t want to squeeze back in.
Second, talks are an admission of defeat.
Since
Pakistan’s general election last May, the Pakistani prime minister,
Nawaz Sharif, and his rival, former cricket star Imran Khan, have been
committed to a negotiated settlement with the Taliban. They’ve even
allowed the notorious Mullah Fazlullah, the would-be assassin of the
celebrated student activist, Malala Yousafzai, time and space to
establish his leadership of previously divided factions of the Pakistani
Taliban. Now, the government has initiated talks through two teams of
intermediaries.
Neither Mr Sharif nor Mr Khan seems to have
grasped the cultural ramifications of calling a unilateral ceasefire and
seeking terms of negotiation. That might, conceivably, sound like
diplomacy. Not to the Taliban, however. In ethnic Pashtun culture, the
quintessential ingredient of Taliban thinking, if your combatant ceases
fire, it’s because they’re demoralised and tired of fighting. And if
they ask the Pashtun to set the agenda, that’s taken as a request for
terms of surrender.
The government has allowed the Taliban to dictate the pace. Obviously, it should have been the other way round.
Third, the Taliban are politicians, not champions of a religious cause.
In
Pakistan, it seems every angry mullah has declared it is his mission to
turn the world into an Islamic super-state governed by God’s laws. The
cleric politicians can say what they want and where, and usually with
impunity, because the civilian state is too scared to challenge them,
while the military state does not even want that to change.
The result has been violence and human rights incidents that have been hugely embarrassing to Pakistanis.
Instead
of fearing the mullah, Pakistanis should flip through the Holy Quran.
It bans the use of religion for the gain of material benefit, such as
political power, saying such Muslims will spend eternity in hell,
irrespective of their declaration of faith.
Similarly, it forbids
the clergy from judging the fidelity of an individual’s faith, and
declares clerics are in no position to assume the validity of their own
faith is valid. It also warns Muslims to beware of people who spread
chaos in God’s name.
That’s about as definitive as it comes. The
Taliban, obviously, are not furthering Islam’s cause – just their own.
It applies equally to the Pakistani military’s use of militant proxy
warriors.
Fourth, citizens aren’t cannon fodder for political gain.
The
obvious cost of Pakistan’s military-driven regional agenda is the human
suffering of its citizens. The horrendous death toll and associated
injuries is just one aspect. Another has been the plight of the hundreds
of thousands of residents of the tribal areas bordering Afghanistan.
Such has been their plight that they’ve coined ironic Pashtu phrases
about living in-between the military, the militants and Central
Intelligence Agency drones, and target-practice for all of the above.
The
psychological impact of not knowing who’s friendly has become
deep-seated and has long-time ramifications for the country’s
solidarity. One day, they might forget why they are proud to be
Pakistani. However unlikely that may seem now, it has happened before –
in 1971, when East Pakistan separated and became Bangladesh.
The
public, and the politicians they elect, need to take charge of their own
fate. But Pakistanis are hardly likely to do that if they remain in
denial of ugly home truths.
Tom Hussain is a freelance journalist based in Islamabad
