Trust Friends, Don't Doubt Them

As Bhutan seeks to increase its engagement with the world, India has no reason to resent it, especially if its relations with Thimphu remain strong. New Delhi had unilaterally amended the old treaty to allow Thimphu to follow its own foreign policy

With India deciding to restore the subsidy on cooking gas and kerosene to Bhutan, an unseemly episode in the relations between the two countries has thankfully ended. The subsidy was revoked on June 30, less than two weeks before the tiny Himalayan nation went to poll to elect its second democratic Government, and it understandably led to accusations that New Delhi was seeking to interfere in Bhutan’s internal matters. The country’s outgoing Prime Minister Jigme Thinley’s so-called ‘adventurism’ in foreign policy, that saw him meet with the Chinese Premier on the sidelines of the Rio summit last year, without prior consultation with New Delhi, had supposedly irked the mandarins in South Block, who then withdrew the subsidies to express their displeasure and ensure that the ‘pro-China leader’ did not come back to power.

In the weeks since then, however, it has become evident that much of the reaction to the ill-timed subsidy cut was blown out of proportion. Apart from the fact that the subsidy cut has since been reversed, the argument that it caused Mr Thinley to lose the election has also been debunked. In the first round of polling that was held in March (months before the subsidy controversy erupted) and saw four parties fight it out, the Prime Minister’s party, Druk Phuensum Tshogpa, won 44.52 per cent of votes. In the second and final round, where the DPT took on the People’s Democratic Party in a face-off, its vote-share fell by just one decimal point —indicating, that India’s subsidy cut did not have an impact on Mr Thinley’s political career even though it surely added some zing to the electoral discourse. If the PDP ultimately won the election, it was because in the final round the party managed to secure all the opposition, non-DPT votes. This was possible primarily because PDP chief and now Prime Minister-elect Tshering Tobgay, a former civil servant, had proven himself to be a strong and articulate Opposition leader in the past five years.

In effect, India’s decision to cut fuel subsidy was not a political one at all —it was a bureaucratic goof-up. The fuel subsidy lapsed on June 30 when Bhutan’s 10th Plan expired. Fresh terms for financial assistance could only be negotiated after the new Government was sworn in — and Bhutan’s Chief Election Commissioner, believed to be even more evangelical in these matters than TN Seshan, made sure that the rules were followed to the T. Add to this the miscommunication between the Ministry of External Affairs and the Ministry of Petroleum in India, as a result of which the latter cancelled the subsidy without taking the former into confidence — and the situation was ripe for a diplomatic disaster.

Thankfully, both countries have now put the episode behind them but nevertheless, there are some important lessons to be learnt. Apart from the obvious one on better communication within the bureaucracy, the most important take-away from this episode, for New Delhi, is that Bhutan is a changing country and India must respond to those changes effectively.

In the past, India has done most of its business with Bhutan through the Bhutanese King in particular and that country’s elite in general. Now, with a parliamentary democracy in place in Thimphu, New Delhi will have to learn to work more carefully with a larger number of stakeholders, some of whom will have competing interests. The manner in which the PDP spun the subsidy cut decision, as the price Bhutan was paying for outgoing Prime Minister Thinley’s supposed mishandling of India-Bhutan’s relations (due to his ‘pro-China’ tendencies) speaks volumes. In fact, the whole thing was made to look so bad that Mr Thinley had to come on national television to explain himself and do damage control.

Outside of the power corridors of Thimphu, the popular reaction to subsidy cut was also telling. It reflected the changes that are currently underway in Bhutanese society especially its increasing willingness to question authority figures and demand greater accountability — which is quite possibly directly related to the installation of a parliamentary democracy and an increased engagement with the outside world. And so it is that in this general election Bhutan voted out the DPT, which ‘represented’ the monarchy and the elite and marked in the previous election a continuation of the royal tradition. Instead, the people have brought to power the PDP, which is a newer political group consisting of little known leaders. This is not to say that Bhutan has rejected its monarchy — far from it, the Bhutanese love their King — but the DPT’s loss is an important marker of societal change. In this context, the question that New Delhi must ask is this: Does Bhutan consider India to be an authority figure? To some extent, yes.

This was especially evident in how Bhutan’s new media responded to theories about Indian interference. Bloggers, many of them young and without a first-hand experience of the deep history that India and Bhutan share, wrote strongly against India trying to do ‘another Nepal’ in their country. Editorials in newspapers, almost all of which have come up in recent years, warned against external forces meddling in domestic politics. This again must not be viewed as an anti-India sentiment — again, far from it, India enjoys tremendous goodwill and genuine support among the people of Bhutan — but New Delhi should take note of this as it re-calibrates its diplomacy in Thimphu.

The Big Brother approach, not that New Delhi ever dealt with Thimphu unfairly, must not be allowed to creep into bilateral relations. While Bhutan surely needs India for its growth, development and security, India also gains significantly by having Bhutan’s wholehearted, no-holds-barred support. This, of course, is particularly crucial vis-à-vis the China factor. Towards that end, Bhutan’s contribution to India’s security framework (not just strategic but also energy; think of the hydro-electric power projects) is just as important as India’s role in securing Bhutan.

Finally, as Bhutan seeks to increase its engagement with the world, India has no reason to resent it especially as long as its own relations with Thimphu remain strong. After all, it was New Delhi that unilaterally amended the old treaty to allow Thimphu to follow its own foreign policy. Now, if the Bhutanese Prime Minister meets with his Chinese counterpart, what is so wrong with that?

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on July 25, 2013)

Miscalculation That Can Be Fatal

India appears to have bought hook, line and sinker the West-driven narrative of ‘good Taliban’ and ‘bad Taliban’. Salman Khurshid’s support to dialogue with the militant outfit, is shocking in the least

External Affairs Minister Salman Khurshid’s recent exhortations in favour of opening a dialogue with the Taliban as part of the larger Afghan peace process marks a shocking reversal in New Delhi’s otherwise well-established policy towards the hardline group. Over the years, India has rightly resisted a role for those committed to a regressive ideology of violence and religious fanaticism, and also refused to buy into the essentially Western argument of the ‘good Taliban’ and the ‘bad Taliban’ — until now, that is.

At the 20th Association of Southeast Asian Nations’ Regional Forum meeting in Brunei, Mr Khurshid announced that the Indian Government supports a “peaceful dialogue” that must “involve all sections of the Afghan society and armed opposition groups, including the Taliban”. Of course, he couched his statement within the standard clauses and pre-conditions — that to be included in the dialogue, the Taliban must be “willing to give up their arms” (and more specifically sever ties with Al Qaeda), “subscribe to the (Afghan) Constitution” and acknowledge “the legitimacy of the Afghan state and Government”. These are supposedly internationally accepted ‘red lines’, but in reality they are just lines drawn in shifting desert sand.

Two examples illustrate this: First, the Afghan Government, when it has been in the mood for talks with the Taliban, has itself often dilly-dallied on the issue of the Constitution and the renunciation of violence. Second, as long back as in February 2011, then US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton had already described these very same clauses as “necessary outcomes for any negotiation”. In other words, what should have been non-negotiable pre-conditions for talk was already being presented as a desired outcome of that talk — and this was more than two years ago when the US was that much less desperate to carve itself a face-saver peace deal before it could get out of Afghanistan.

The other issue that seems to be driving much of the ‘talk to Taliban’ brigade is that of the ‘good Taliban’ versus the ‘bad Taliban’, the ‘moderate Taliban’ versus the ‘hardline Taliban’, the ‘peace-wanting Taliban’ versus the ‘war-mongering Taliban’. The basic argument here is that reaching out and winning over the good Taliban might just be the key to securing that elusive peace in Afghanistan. Towards this end, some commentators have pointed out that the Taliban is not a homogeneously fanatical group, that a section of the Taliban leadership has offered to abandon their social conservatism for political reconciliation, that some Taliban leaders have pushed for local ceasefires and even advocated ending attacks on women, children and minorities.

But do not forget that the Taliban are political opportunists. Yes, there is a segment that is more pragmatic but to assume that they have bought into the idea of peaceful, democratic and stable Afghanistan is a bit rich. Also, there is the question of how strong is this supposedly soft section? Not very, from available evidence. Take for instance, Agha Jan Motasim, a former Taliban leader who in May 2012 had said that the hardliners form a minority while most of his colleagues want a peace deal. One year and an assassination attempt later, he lives in exile in Turkey. Others like him have not even been that lucky — Arsalan Rahman Daulat, who was working with the Karzai regime in fact to further the peace process, was killed in Kabul.

Unfortunately, facts seem to matter little in this situation. And so the ‘talk to Taliban’ faction continues to gain traction, particularly from the fact that the Taliban are a force to reckon with in Afghanistan. They still do control parts of that country and the world’s best military has failed to defeat this guerrilla force. In other words, just because the Taliban have proven to be an enemy that cannot be easily subdued (mostly because one has chosen their allies badly), one must capitulate before them and quit. This approach may work for those who have the option to leave the battlefield, but for those whom that same battlefield forms their own backyard, this is a confrontation they must fight to win.

And, if victory has to be secured in Afghanistan, the Taliban have to be militarily defeated, not politically appeased. Given that the US-led Nato forces are leaving in end-2014, much of that will depend on the Afghan National Security Forces who have actually proven themselves to be a strong and brave fighting force. India would have done well to have given them the military assistance that President Hamid Karzai had requested, but here too, New Delhi has held back. 

Viewed in conjunction with New Delhi’s recent policy turnaround on the Taliban issue, we wonder if India is working under US pressure or whether it is afraid of setting off alarm bells in Pakistan. Either way, there is no justification for this shameful pussyfooting in Afghanistan.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on July 11, 2013)

Wrong People to Talk Peace With

Both the Obama Administration and the Afghan Government favour talks with the Taliban for their own reasons. But their eagerness for dialogue is not matched by the other side, which continues to wreak violence and cock a snook at the peaceniks

Given how desperate the Obama Administration is to talk its way out of the unwinnable war in Afghanistan, it is highly unlikely that even the audacious Talibani attack on the presidential compound in Kabul will make Washington, DC realise the futility of seeking peace with those who espouse an ideology of hate. But to most others, the writing is on the wall.

On Tuesday, the Taliban infiltrated the high-security zone that houses the headquarters of the CIA in Afghanistan, the country’s Defence Ministry and the headquarters of the International Security Assistance Force alongside the presidential palace. Two hours of gun-fighting later, all four attackers had been neutralised, but not before they made clear that the Taliban still had the power to strike in the heart of Afghanistan.

This high-profile attack came less than a week after the Taliban inaugurated, with much fanfare, their new office in the Qatari capital of Doha.The office was only supposed to serve as a location for talks between the Taliban, US and Afghan officials. But banners put up at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, attended by the likes of the Qatari Foreign Minister himself, called it the ‘Political Office’ of the “Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan” — the name that the Taliban used when they ruled from Kabul. The Taliban’s efforts to present the new office as some sort of a parallel Afghan embassy in Qatar was a PR disaster for the Americans who were seen as sidelining their ally in Kabul, the democratically elected Government of Afghanistan, so as to cut a fast deal with the Taliban in Doha. A rightfully livid President Hamid Karzai retaliated not just by withdrawing his delegation to the Doha talks but also calling off separate security negotiations with the US regarding American military presence in Afghanistan after 2014. 

While both sets of negotiations will quite possibly resume sooner than later, the Taliban’s ‘Qatar moment’ and America’s garbled response to it, is proof that the talks, even before they have begun, are bound to fail. Apart from the absurdity of trying to negotiate peace with those who have made clear they want no part of it, the fact is that the entire ‘Talk to Taliban’ plan is ill-thought out, badly-timed and poorly-managed.

As The International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation and Political Violence at the New America Foundation points out in a recent study, “The strategic rationale for the talks has never been clear… those who have advocated talks with the Taliban have done so for different reasons at different times. This has clouded and confused official policy. Some hoped to ‘peel off’ low-level insurgents, whereas others preferred to encourage the development of a Taliban political party; some hoped to divide the movement, whereas others hoped to massage it in such a way that Taliban ‘doves’ were strengthened over ‘hawks’; some hoped to deal directly with the movement’s leaders while others saw them as the chief obstacles to progress. Many of these strands were in operation at the same time, contributing to a sense that talks were conducted in a strategic vacuum.”

Equally worrying is how the ‘Talk to Taliban’ strategy, which is fast becoming the crux of the American withdrawal plan, resembles the disastrous Soviet experience in Afghanistan — and clearly, how no lesson has been learnt from history. Primary among these is that both with the Soviet invasion and the American military intervention, the penchant for talk seems inversely proportional to the possibility of a military victory.

In the case of the Soviets, it became clear fairly early in the game that the Red Army was being unable to script itself a conventional victory on the battlefield. Therefore, by the early eighties there was already growing acceptance of the fact that some sort of a ‘diplomatic/political solution’ would be needed to end the fighting. And so, between 1980 and 1985, the Soviets followed a two-pronged approach of seeking a UN-sponsored solution on the one hand and trying to convince the Pakistanis on the other, to stop supporting the mujahideen in Afghanistan. The plan was ineffective, mostly because Pakistan under General Zia-ul-Haq was suspicious of Moscow, which he perceived to be close to New Delhi. Eventually, the Soviets also reached out to their rival Americans, but the latter refused flat out and instead, stepped up their funding for the insurgents.

Then, in 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev became general secretary of the communist party and decided to revamp the Soviet policy in Afghanistan. A year later, he sent in 26,000 additional troops, hoping to inflict a final military defeat that would close what he famously described as a “bleeding wound”, but the military surge bore limited results.

In the years ahead, there was a distinct change in Moscow’s policy towards counter-insurgency in Afghanistan, as Russian historian Artemy Kalinovsky notes: “Previously, the emphasis had been on winning over the population through economic incentives and establishing party and governance influence in the cities and countryside. The new initiative continued that policy but placed a much greater emphasis on pacification through winning over rebel commanders.” 

Moscow’s new policy also found reflection in the efforts of President Najibullah (who had taken over in 1986) to reach out to the mujahideen. He announced an unilateral ceasefire, released thousands of mujahideens from prison and even offered ministerial positions to insurgent leaders. Yet, none of these appeasement tactics worked as the insurgents saw no reason to accept concessions offered by an already weak regime. The turning point came with Mr Gorbachev’s February 1988 announcement of a troop withdraw timetable. This weakened the Soviets leverage as they went in to deliberate on the Geneva Accords — the results of which only laid the foundation for an even bloodier civil war.

The comparisons with the US invasion here are unmistakeable. Even though the Americans registered an early military victory in 2001 by removing the Taliban from power — which explains why the insurgents had no role to play in the Bonn Conference that established the interim Karzai regime — they failed to consolidate those early gains. Consequently, while the US got busy fighting another war in Iraq, the Taliban re-grouped and returned with a vengeance. For them, there has been no looking back since then, even as both the Afghan Government and the Americans have sought to reach out to the Taliban to cobble together some sort of a peace package. But the Taliban have refused to talk to the Afghan Government, which they do not even recognise, thereby torpedoing any effort towards an Afghan-led peace process.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on June 27, 2013)

A Politician's Coming of Age

Aung San Suu Kyi's public announcement of her presidential aspirations at the World Economic Forum meet, completes her transformation from being a mere political dissident to an Opposition leader who desires to lead Myanmar in the near future

Aung San Suu Kyi's public announcement of her presidential aspirations at the World Economic Forum meet, completes her transformation from being a mere political dissident to an Opposition leader who desires to lead Myanmar in the near future The latest edition of the World Economic Forum on East Asia that concluded in Naypidaw last Friday was arguably the most vocal acknowledgment from the international community of one the biggest developments in South Asia in recent years: Political reform in Myanmar. 

World leaders, industry titans and civil society activists from around the globe had gathered in the newly-built capital city to celebrate what the Forum called the ‘courageous transformation’ of Myanmar and to chart that country’s way forward. It was against this backdrop that Ms Aung San Suu Kyi, Myanmar’s best known pro-democracy icon, announced to the world her desire to take on her country’s top job.

“I want to run for President, and I’m quite frank about it”, said the 67-year-old at the Forum, where she was the undisputed star of the show. While this was not the first time that Ms Suu Kyi had spoken of her presidential ambitions, her forthright approach combined with the timing and the venue amplified the impact of her statement which made headlines around the world. Be that as it may, the fact remains that Ms Suu Kyi cannot run for election, and she knows that. Under the present Constitution, anyone who is married to a foreign citizen or whose children hold foreign passports is prohibited from running for either President or the Vice President’s office. Ms Suu Kyi’s deceased husband was British and her sons also hold British passports. A Constitutional amendment is of course the most obvious solution to this problem but it is easier said than done, as several procedural difficulties stand in the way.

First, such an amendment to the Constitution would require a 75 per cent parliamentary approval which will be hard to come by, since 25 per cent of the seats in Parliament are reserved for the military while the bulk of the remaining is occupied by military loyalists. Second, even if Parliament were to somehow pass the amendment, the proposed change would then have to be approved by the majority in a national referendum before it could come into effect. Organising such a referendum is laborious and time-consuming, and offers a perfectly legitimate excuse for the Generals looking to prevent Ms Suu Kyi from running for President.

In other words, a long and arduous path lies ahead before Ms Suu Kyi’s desire to lead her country can turn into reality. And through much of that journey she will have to manoeuvre and out-manoeuvre the men in uniform who, while they may have grudgingly warmed up to her, somewhat, in recent times, they are by no means willing to concede any real political space or power yet. Let us not forget that the rule regarding relatives with foreign citizenship was introduced by the junta only in 2008 —just two years before the landmark general election of 2010 that paved the way for a semi-civilian Government to take over the reins from the military — with the sole intention of keeping Ms Suu Kyi away from the presidency.

And if that isn’t enough, sample this: According to the Wall Street Journal, immediately after Ms Suu Kyi announced her presidential ambitions at the World Economic Forum, President Thein Sein (a former Army General who shed his fatigues to take charge as a civilian ruler in 2010) cancelled her invitation to the gala dinner that he was hosting later that evening. And this is despite reports that the two leaders share a strong, personal bond that many observers believe played an important role in facilitating Ms Suu Kyi’s return to the political mainstream in Myanmar.

But either way, there is no denying that with Ms Suu Kyi’s public announcement of her presidential aspirations at the World Economic Forum, her transformation from a political dissident to an Opposition leader is now complete. And while there is little by way to predict how it will shape her career as a politician in the years ahead — especially since much of it will also be determined by how the military responds to her political rise — this is a good time to look back at the past two years that she has spent in active politics after being released from decades of house arrest.

Three events stand out: First, Ms Suu Kyi’s cleansweep victory in the by-elections held in April 2012 that saw her National League for Democracy win 43 of the 44 seats it had contested. Not that there was ever any doubt about how much support she commandeered among her people, but still, the electoral victory was an important indicator of the power she could wield within a democratically-elected Government — something that must have made the Generals cringe.

Second, Ms Suu Kyi’s support for the Letpadaung copper mine in Sagaing Division was both a huge risk and a political game-changer. The mine is currently being developed by a Chinese firm and has been met with severe opposition from locals who accuse the Government-run Union of Myanmar Economic Holdings Limited of land grab. Ms Suu Kyi headed the commission that investigated the matter and reported in favour of the regime, as she believed that commitments made by the previous Government to foreign investors had to be honoured — or else, potential investors will be reluctant to invest in the country. This is something that Myanmar simply cannot afford. While this bought her the Generals’ confidence as someone who was a ‘fair player’, it also led to much criticism from certain segments of the public which felt that she had sold out to the military; others pointed fingers at her for supporting crony capitalism.

Third, Ms Suu Kyi’s studied silence on the issue of Rohingya Muslims who violently clashed with the country’s Buddhist majority, also disappointed many who expected her, as a proponent of democratic values, to take a stronger position. But as a politician, Ms Suu Kyi saw no merit in polarising an already difficult and historically complex situation. Also, by highlighting the issue she would have played into the hands of the military, which would like nothing better than a ‘national security’ crisis that could shore up its image and importance  at a time such as this. 

That, as an opposition leader, Ms Suu Kyi faces a tough challenge, is without a doubt. One only has to look at how the regime has ensnared her — while losing no political capital itself — in both the cases described above, to understand the gravity of the situation. And there will be more of these double-edged swords in the future too. For instance, there have been reports that after the 2015 election, the regime may offer her the position of Foreign Minister. Not only will such a move make the Generals look good, it will effectively allow them to enlist Ms Suu Kyi as their official spokesperson. For Ms Suu Kyi, of course, this would just be more of the tightrope situation that she is already having to navigate.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on June 13, 2013.)

Warmth of the Rising Sun

Tokyo must shed its old stand on the issue of India not having signed the NPT, especially if it wishes to work with New Delhi in the civil nuclear energy arena, which is the other big picture idea that could redefine India-Japan relations

Days after he hosted Chinese Premier Li Keqiang in New Delhi, as Prime Minister Manmohan Singh met his Japanese counterpart Shinzo Abe in Tokyo during the course of his three-day visit that ends Thursday, there is no ignoring the dragon in the room. Sample this from Mr Singh’s speech on Tuesday to a high-profile gathering that included Indian and Japanese parliamentarians: “This region faces multiple challenges, unresolved issues and unsettled questions. Historical differences persist despite our growing inter-dependence; prosperity has not fully eliminated disparities within and between states; and there are continuing threats to stability and security.”

Now, place this against the backdrop of the recent Chinese incursion into Indian territory. Had it spun out of control, that episode could have well morphed into a full-scale military confrontation. Also, add to the picture China’s renewed effort to grab the Diaoyu/Senkaku Islands administered by Japan. This, many strategists believe, today poses the most serious risk of a militarised conflict between the two nations since the second world war.

And this is just one illustration of how both India and Japan have a common interest in containing Chinese belligerence in Asia. Apart from the border dispute, India, for instance, also remains deeply concerned about China’s proximity to Pakistan and its continued support for the rogue regime in North Korea, which again is known to proliferate arms and weapons technology to Pakistan. Similarly, for Japan, it is China’s increasingly hostile posturing in the South and East China that is becoming untenable.

At the crux of much of this lies China’s hunger for more and more resource that comes amid growing domestic unrest. In other words, there is nothing to suggest that Chinese aggression in the region will diminish. If anything, it will be ramped up over the years — more the reason why India and Japan must join hands and strengthen their security partnership.

Already, New Delhi and Tokyo have institutionalised the ‘2+2 dialogue’ involving their respective Defence and Foreign Secretaries. This is a one-of-its-kind arrangement that India and Japan have, and it is only testimony to the increasing importance of their bilateral relationship particularly within a national and regional security paradigm.

Yet another reason that adds to the urgency of the India-Japan bilateral ties, especially in the China context, is the US’s ‘pivot to Asia’ strategy. Designed primarily to contain China, the strategy has India as its so-called lynchpin. Add to this the pre-established alliance between the US and Japan, and pieces of this puzzle begins to fall in place. While America may have lost some of its global influence in recent years, there is no denying that it still has one of the world’s most powerful militaries which could still prove to be a strategic game-changer any day.

But while these geo-political imperatives should bring the two countries closer, it is the return of Mr Abe to power that should add the much-needed momentum to the relationship. For years now, ties between India and Japan have been on a slow if steady track, but as the time now comes to take it to the next level, a booster shot is necessary. Who better to administer that shot than Mr Abe?

Apart from the fact that he is possibly the most pro-India of all Japanese leaders in recent times, the Liberal Democratic Party leader is also known for his staunchly nationalist views and is the least likely to take Chinese aggression lying down. Let us not forget that it was he, who in a historic address to the Indian Parliament in 2004, first spoke of the Indo-Pacific as a security paradigm and later went so far ahead as to suggest an informal military alliance between Japan, India, the US and Australia. Unfortunately, that idea never really took off. Even if the Japanese Prime Minister decides to resuscitate it, most strategists believe that it is unlikely to take any definite shape — mostly because it would make China furious. But that still does not change the fact that the Japanese Prime Minister views India as a strategic partner, and if Mr Singh’s Tokyo trip is anything to go by, New Delhi has signalled its willingness to embrace Mr Abe’s view of the Indo-Pacific.

However, if the India-Japan bilateral relationship has to realise its full potential, even within the security paradigm alone, Tokyo will first have to unshackle itself from post-War inhibitions. As of now, Japan does not export arms or weapons technology to India because of the three principles enshrined in its Constitution that effectively prevent such exchanges. Announced in 1967, these principles ban arms export to (i) communist countries (ii) countries to which arms exports are banned under UN resolutions, and (iii) countries which are or may be involved in an international military conflict. However, in 1976 the Liberal Democratic Party Government of the time expanded the restrictions to cover other countries not described in the principles, and also brought under cover defence-related technologies; thereby, imposing a veritable blanket ban on arms export.

It was not until 1983 that Tokyo made an exemption for the first time by allowing the export of military technologies to the US. In December 2011, then Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda of the Democratic Party of Japan relaxed the three principles and set fresh standards for arms exports. Under the new regime, export of defense equipment related to peacemaking and international cooperation is now permitted while co-development and co-production of defense equipment is also allowed if the partner country has a cooperative relationship with Japan over national security issues.

Naturally, this works well for India — and more so now that, given Mr Abe’s personal willingness to expand India-Japan security coordination, the Prime Minister can be trusted to take a more lenient approach towards exports arms to India.

It must be kept in mind that since India is not a signatory to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, prior permission from the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry is needed when it comes to exporting dual-use products and technologies (such as the US-2 amphibious aircraft which Japan might soon sell to India) that may be used for the development or production of weapons. It is in situations such as these that it will help tremendously to have someone like Mr Abe in the driver’s seat.

Still, Tokyo will do well to shed its old stand on the issue of India not having acceded to the NPT, especially if it wishes to work with New Delhi in the civil nuclear energy arena — the other big picture idea that could redefine India-Japan relations.

After all, in 2008, even the Nuclear Suppliers Group, which controls the export of nuclear-related products and technologies to non-NPT member countries, unanimously approved India’s exemption from the export restriction list. While it is true that since 2010, Japan and India have been discussing a civil nuclear energy cooperation agreement but the fact is that negotiations have been deadlocked since Tokyo insists on a provision that, should India resume nuclear testing, cooperation between the two countries will cease. 

This obviously is not amenable to New Delhi, which has maintained a principled stance on the matter. In this case, Japan will do well to learn a lesson from the US which signed the civil nuclear deal with India, keeping its eyes firmly on China.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on May 30, 2013.)

Trust Islamabad but Verify Too

New Delhi has many reasons to welcome Nawaz Sharif's third term as Prime Minister. However, this does not mean that India can throw caution to the winds and let down its guard. The Pakistani Army is still strongly entrenched in its anti-India posture, and so is the ISI

On May 11, as the Islamic Republic of Pakistan went to the poll to elect a new Government, democracy in that country received its strongest booster shot yet. For the first time since the country came into existence 67 years ago, one popularly elected regime had completed its full five-year term and was handing over power to another popularly elected entity. The socio-political and strategic import of this historic transition cannot be underestimated — especially, given that the election was held under the shadow of death and terror.

In the run-up to the poll, several candidates, including those from mainstream political parties, were killed by the Pakistani Taliban mostly in drive-by shootings. The ‘bad Taliban’, as the group is often labelled, had made it amply clear that it considered voting un-Islamic and, therefore, targeted leaders and voters alike right up to election day with sickening regularity. That the people of Pakistan still went to the polling stations in large numbers — the Election Commission noted a turn-out of nearly 60 per cent — and in the process thumbed their nose at the Taliban, is heartening indeed, not just for Pakistan but also for India.

In fact, with Mr Nawaz Sharif now returning to power in Islamabad — his PML(N) swept the election and won a comfortable 123 of the 272 seats in the National Assembly — India could have scarcely asked for a more favourable electoral result from Pakistan. The 63-year-old who has already been in the top job twice earlier, has been very vocal in his support for India, and has repeatedly and publicly said that improving bilateral ties between the countries is among his priorities.

Undoubtedly, the most pro-India of all the candidates, Mr Sharif had, as the Prime Minister in 1999, signed the historic Lahore Declaration with Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, which was supposed to usher in a new era in India-Pakistan relations. However, that didn’t happen as Mr Sharif himself became the victim of a military coup and was ousted from office. Now, as he returns to power in Islamabad, he has promised to pick up the pieces from where he had left. He has also promised, for instance, to bring to justice those who mounted the 26/11 terror attack on India.

All this has naturally been well-received in India which can surely do with a little less venom and bad blood flowing from across the border. Towards that end, New Delhi has good enough reason to welcome Mr Sharif’s third term as Prime Minister. However, this does not mean that India can throw caution to the winds and let down its guard.

Mr Sharif is surely the best that India could have hoped for, but he is neither a saint nor a super-human. There are skeletons in his cupboard too. For instance, let us not forget that, if Mr Sharif helped script the Lahore Declaration, it was also during his rule that the Kargil conflict happened. Of course, Mr Sharif has consistently held that the military misadventure was planned behind his back by his treacherous Army chief Pervez Musharraf. But General Musharraf has claimed otherwise, going so far as to say that five days before Mr Sharif met Mr Vajpayee in Lahore, he had been briefed by the Army about the mission.

Either way, the Kargil conflict makes Mr Sharif look really bad. If he knew about the attack, then he is exposed as a duplicitous character. And if didn’t know about the attack, then he comes across as a weak and ineffective Prime Minister who didn’t known what his own Army was up to. And even by Pakistan’s standards of civil-military relations, that is a bit too much to accept at face value. Still, if this was indeed the case, one must ask if things will be any different this time around. 

As of now, there are no indications as to how Mr Sharif will define his Government’s relationship with the country’s military. It is true that given his own bitter experience with the Army, he may try harder than others to curb the latter’s influence but with what degree of success, remains an open question. Also, in this context it is important to dismiss the notion that has been doing the rounds of late that the military is backing out of Pakistan’s political space or will be reluctant to interfere like before in the functioning of the new civilian Government because of popular resistance. First, the military has never cared about daily administration issues as long as its own interests have remained secured. This is true not just in Pakistan but even in other countries where the military has played a domineering role in public life — such as in Egypt, for example.

Second, the Pakistani military has done nothing to suggest that it will concede any strategic space to the newly elected Government. On the contrary, Chief of Army Staff General Ashfaq Parvez Kayani’s much-hyped media briefing prior to the election proved that the military was very much a political force to contend with. Even though the meeting with journalists was organised to put out the Army’s official story supporting democracy and popular representation et al, it quickly devolved into a session critiquing Pakistan’s political class as one that is inept, inefficient and ultimately incapable of protecting the nation’s interests. Somewhat correct as that analysis may be, Gen Kayani has already used it to set the narrative of a weak Government that might eventually have to be replaced by a stronger Army. Also, Gen Kayani’s term expires later this year and it is the transition of power that’ll happen then, that India should watch closely. 

Coming back to Mr Sharif, his continued dalliances with Islamists should be a cause for concern for India. The Prime Minister-elect is known to be close to the Lashkar-e-Tayyeba and considers the Lashkar-e-Jhangvi to be an electoral ally. The latter has been held responsible for a slew of attacks on minorities and Mr Sharif has scarcely, if ever, raised his voice in condemnation. And that is not all, when the Taliban came to power in Kabul, Mr Sharif’s Government in Islamabad was one of the few that recognised it.

Now, add to this the fact that the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan did not attack the PML(N) during this election because it said it had no problems with the party, and a murky picture of the dangerous opportunist politics emerges. Especially now that the PML(N) is in power, make no mistake that the Taliban, who like to view themselves as the king-makers, will seek to extract more than just their pound of flesh from Mr Sharif and his Government.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on May 16, 2013)

Lessons This Tragedy Teaches

One can only hope that Sarabjit's sad story and his enormous suffering will move the establishments in both India and Pakistan to seriously reconsider the manner in which they treat each other's prisoners. Humanity shouldn’t be sacrificed

Less than a week after he was brutally attacked with bricks and iron rods by his fellow inmates at Lahore’s Kot Lakhpat prison, 49-year-old Sarabjit Singh is barely alive. His doctors at the state-run Jinnah Hospital have already declared him to be brain dead, and it is the crucial life-support system that keeps his heart pumping. Singh’s family has demanded that he be transferred to India so that he may receive better medical care, and the Union Ministry for External Affairs has reportedly gone through the motions of taking up that demand with the Pakistani regime. However, it is unlikely that the latter will cooperate.

As of now, there is a caretaker Government in charge in Pakistan and it has only the limited mandate of ensuring that the general election scheduled for May 11 is held in a free and fair manner. This gives an already reluctant Islamabad ample excuse to not take a decision either against or in favour of moving Singh to India. In all fairness, there is not much that New Delhi can do about it at this point anyway — more so, since mere diplomatic flexing is not expected to get it much leverage with Islamabad. And so it is, that once again India has been caught completely unaware and is now totally confused about how best to respond to the situation.

And yet, it did not have to be like this. Gruesome and gut-wrenching as it was, the April 26 attack on Sarabjit Singh was predictable. In fact, according to some news reports, Singh’s lawyer, Mr Awais Shaikh, had written a number of letters to the prison authorities as well as to high-level Government officials that his client had received death threats from some of the inmates as well as from jihadigroups.

These threats were made ostensibly in retaliation to the hangings of Ajmal Kasab, the Pakistani terrorist convicted for his role in the 26/11 terror attack, and Afzal Guru, the Kashmiri separatist who was sentenced to death for master-minding the 2001 Parliament attack. While Kasab was hanged on November 21, 2012, Guru’s sentence was carried out earlier this year on February 9. It is important to note in this context that after Guru’s hanging, Pakistan’s National Assembly had passed a resolution condemning the execution; in response, India also adopted a parliamentary resolution condemning Pakistan’s needless interference in its sovereign affairs.

In other words, the fact that Singh could have been targeted in Pakistan for the hanging of Kasab and Guru, was something that not only the Indian authorities should have foreseen (and taken up proactively with their Pakistani counterparts), but also one that the Pakistani authorities should have prepared for. After all, if, after the attack on Singh, India can increase security for Pakistani prisoners lodged in its own jails without Islamabad’s prodding, then why couldn’t the Pakistanis have done the same for their Indian inmates?

Kot Lakhpat prison officials were duty-bound to ensure the safety of Singh as much as they were responsible for the security of the other inmates under their charge. It is imperative that the Pakistani Government investigate and punish the officials for such serious dereliction of duty — especially since Singh is not the first Indian prisoner to have come under attack while being under its watch. In January this year, Chambail Singh, a native of Pragwal in Jammu & Kashmir, was reportedly beaten to death by prison staff at the same Kot Lakhpat jail. Chambail Singh had been convicted on charges of espionage and was serving his time at the time of the attack. The Indian High Commission in Pakistan was only informed of his death, and no other details were given. More than four months later, it is still unclear if a post-mortem was ever conducted — requests for such reports from even Union Minister for External Affairs Salman Khurshid have been ignored — and if any action was taken against the errant officials.

Against this backdrop, the Pakistani Government must also look into allegations that prison authorities were in fact actively involved in the brutal attack on Sarabjit Singh as well. These allegations gain further credence when viewed alongside Indian intelligence reports that the attack on Singh was ordered by the Lashkar-e-Tayyeba and the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan. If this was indeed the case, then it is unlikely that the attack could have been carried out without a wink-and-a-nod from the prison authorities, if not their bosses higher up in the establishment.

The fact is that both India and Pakistan have historically been guilty of using prisoners from the other country as pawns in their own petty political games. Take Sarabjit Singh’s case as an example: Convicted for his alleged role in four bomb blasts in Lahore and Islamabad in 1990 in which 14 people were killed, Singh was sentenced to death in 1991.

But in 2008, the new Government in Pakistan was willing take into consideration his repeated pleas that he had been a victim of mistaken identity and that his sentence should be commuted to a life term — which would also be seen as a goodwill gesture to India. But then President Pervez Musharraf turned down Singh’s mercy plea, although the convict’s hanging was postponed for an indefinite period.

It was only much later in 2012 that Singh’s sentence was finally commuted by President Asif Ali Zardari. At that time, Singh was in fact supposed to be released as part of a prisoner swap deal, but at the last moment, another Indian convict was freed, resulting in much confusion in the process.

There are similar stories playing out on this side of the border too. Pakistani scientist Khalil Chisti, for example, spent two decades imprisoned in India on murder charges, until he was released following an order of the Supreme Court on December 12, 2012. Prior to that, the President of Pakistan had appealed to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh for Chisti’s release on humanitarian grounds, but that had done little to help his case.

The way things stand now, there is little that can be done to help Sarabjit Singh’s condition. However, one can only hope that his story and his suffering will move the establishments in both India and Pakistan to seriously reconsider the manner in which they treat each other’s prisoners. Singh may have been accused of terrorism against the state of Pakistan, but there are many others who are lodged in Pakistani and Indian jails for lesser crimes — such as straying across the border or fishing in alien territory. They deserve a better deal.

(This article was published in the op-ed section of The Pioneer on May 2, 2013.)