archive: Victory in reverse: the great climbdown
Victory in reverse: the great climbdown
Ayaz Amir
Dawn, Karachi
July 9, 1999
Title: Victory in reverse: the great climbdown
Author: Ayaz Amir
Publication: Dawn, Karachi
Date: July 9, 1999
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.
Back
Top
|
