Blame it on the West

AS Pakistan’s political drama drags on towards a climax, one of the many factors in Musharraf’s decline is his perceived proximity to Bush.

By Irfan Husain

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Published: Thu 16 Aug 2007, 8:27 AM

Last updated: Sun 5 Apr 2015, 1:07 AM

And yet, for years, many Pakistanis had resented being ‘abandoned’ by the US after the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan. As one general put it so graphically: “They cast us aside like a used condom.” But now that the country is once more allied with the Americans, millions of Pakistanis are up in arms over the relationship. It seems there is just no pleasing some people.

As the recent parliamentary debate on foreign policy showed, and as many opinion polls have confirmed, there is a deep, instinctive anti-Americanism at work in Pakistan. Indeed, a cheap way to win an argument is to accuse somebody of being pro-American. This is similar to the tactics used by the Zionist lobby in the West to silence critics of Israel by labelling them as anti-Semitic.

The intensity of these sentiments became apparent when I reluctantly got into an argument at a dinner party recently. Somebody loudly protested the increasing American pressure on Pakistan to ‘do more’ against the extremists infesting the tribal belt. Unable to resist, I pointed out that since 9/11, Pakistan had received nearly 10 billion dollars as aid from Washington in one form or another. Part of this sum is the billion dollars a year that go to defray the costs of our military presence and operations on the Afghan border.

“Surely,” I argued. “For this kind of money, the Americans have a right to ask for a quid pro quo.”

Another guest (a recently retired ambassador, and an old and dear friend) promptly said my argument reflected a pro-Western mindset. I replied that as an independent country, we were at liberty to refuse Western aid, and then change our policy towards the Taleban. But as long as we were taking billions of dollars, we were in a contractual agreement to stick to our side of the bargain.

As we had all had a couple by then, the exchange grew more heated. My friend said we did not have to give up any aid, but should do what suited us best. As the discussion was by now generating more heat than light, I extricated myself as best as I could.

As a Pakistani, I find the threatening noises from sundry American public figures demeaning and insulting. Nevertheless, I do see the Western viewpoint. We are making a big deal of our sovereignty when the reality is that it barely exists in the tribal belt along the Afghan border. In fact, we have never exercised real control on our side of this international boundary. Neither the tribes along the border belt, and nor successive governments in Kabul, have recognised the reality or the legality of the disputed Durand Line.

For decades, the autonomous status of these rugged badlands has meant a safe haven for smugglers, heroin factories and gunrunners. The world was largely indifferent to this reality. The exchequer lost billions; the country became awash in guns; and millions of Pakistanis became addicted to heroin. But this was a matter of concern only to us.

However, the anarchy along the border began to matter internationally when Western troops arrived in Afghanistan and became targets for the Taleban and their supporters. It was soon apparent that these elements were using Pakistani territory as a base and a safe haven. They could retreat here after mounting cross-border operations to rest and recuperate, safe in the knowledge that they could not be followed.

Although Pakistan has some 80,000 troops along the border, it has been unable to stop this constant infiltration. Many Western voices accuse us of dragging our feet, and not doing as much as we could. They see Taleban sympathisers within the Pakistani establishment who make it difficult to mount effective anti-terrorist operations.

This view will probably be strengthened by the speech made by the parliamentary defence secretary, retired major Tanvir Hussain. Speaking in the recent debate on foreign policy in Parliament, he has demanded that the government allow jihadis to enter Kashmir to fight, and to recognise the Taleban. He also accused the CIA of being behind the spate of terrorist attacks targeting Chinese nationals. He concluded his speech thus: “Be it the mountains of Waziristan or Kashmir, or the plains of Punjab, there should only be one slogan: Al jihad! Al jihad! Al jihad!” Clerics in Parliament greeted this sentiment with stormy applause. The American embassy, understandably, has lodged a strong protest.

Considering that this worthy is a member of the ruling party, one would assume his views are not far removed from the sentiments of the PML-Q. So when American lawmakers want to make aid conditional on Pakistan’s performance against extremism and terrorism, one can see why they have introduced this rider. Obviously, it is unpleasant to be tacitly accused of slacking in this struggle, but we need to understand the context behind these charges.

Another thing we seem to have lost sight of in this controversy over recent American statements is that the fight against extremism is more our fight than the West’s. As we saw at Lal Masjid, the spectre of fundamentalism is the biggest danger to us. Irrespective of whether we get financial assistance to fight the jihadis or not, it is in Pakistan’s pressing interest to crush them. We cannot live in peace with ourselves or with our neighbours as long as this threat exists.

In this rush to appear more anti-American than the next person, we see a curious convergence between the left and the religious right. We have lost our ability to differentiate: any policy emanating from Washington is bound to be wrong.

But surely things are not so conveniently black and white. I supported the ouster of the medieval Taleban from power after 9/11, but I marched against the invasion of Iraq, despite my distaste for Saddam Hussein. Indeed, had Bush not embarked on his mad adventure in Iraq, he would have had far greater moral authority and military strength to do the job in Afghanistan.

Sovereignty implies that a state controls the territory over which its writ extends. By this definition, the tribal belt is not, strictly speaking, under Islamabad’s control. Until this anomaly is removed through a constitutional amendment, political will and firm action, we will continue being flooded with drugs, guns and terrorists. Blaming the West will not solve our problems.

Irfan Husain is an eminent Pakistani writer based in London. He can be reached at irfan.husain@gmail.com


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