February/March 1996, Pages 25, 107
The Subcontinent
India's Nuclear Plans Keep Indian Electorate,
and U.S., Guessing
By M.M. Ali
The New York Times disclosed in early December that the
United States had obtained evidence through its space satellites
that India was preparing for a nuclear test at its Pokaran facility
in Rajasthan. There were other reports that Washington had been
in touch with New Delhi on the issue, and that U.S. Ambassador Frank
Wisner had told India of adverse American reaction. New Delhi, in
turn, denied any such plans.
The New York Times followed its report with a strongly worded
editorial on Dec. 29 that said: "Now comes word that India,
which conducted its one and only nuclear test in 1974, is considering
some testing of its own. Even worse, India now suggests it may not
sign the test-ban treaty, despite longstanding support for such
an agreement." The Times added: "These moves can
only raise tensions in South Asia, damage the cause of nuclear non-proliferation
and undercut the goals India says it espouses."
New Delhi had before it the examples of France and China, both
of which have defied world opinion and gone ahead with their underground
nuclear tests in recent months. Other than some protests, there
were no visible adverse political or economic consequences for either
power. Additionally, a recent public opinion poll conducted by the
leading monthly magazine India Today and published on Dec.
31, 1995 showed 62 percent approval among Indians for a nuclear
test.
This is an election year for Narasimha Rao's Congress Party government,
which is being challenged seriously by the Bharatiya Janata Party
(BJP). Rao may be calculating whether going ahead with a popular
nuclear weapons program will give him an edge with the 1996 electorate.
The flip side of the question is: what would the United States give
if Rao agrees not to go ahead with the nuclear test? Will the consequences
of either course make a measurable difference in the electoral outcome?
Unfortunately, mixing nuclear weapons and domestic politics seems
an exquisitely delicate and dangerous game. A small miscalculation
could, literally, have disastrous consequences for the entire region.
Writing in the Christian Science Monitor of Dec. 28, 1995,
Jonathan Landay observed: "At a minimum the foes [India and
Pakistan] may be headed into an accelerating arms race that will
worsen tensions and undermine their economic development...
even the smallest of inadvertent incidents could escalate into the
fourth Indo-Pakistan war...Only this time, it might go nuclear."
Michael Krepon of the Henry Stimson Center, a Washington, DC think
tank, warned: "South Asia is on the threshold of significantly
increased tensions and nuclear dangers. It is a region prone to
mishap, prone to miscalculation." An American intelligence
official called the India-Pakistan confrontation "one of the
world's most potentially dangerous situations."
In the light of such scary evaluations, Narasimha Rao realizes
that he holds a critical trump card and in view of the geo-political
importance of India, he perhaps can draw big dividends through nuclear
posturing. It is an unfortunate deduction that the greater the risk,
the greater the reward. He perhaps also knows that Pakistan will
not be left far behind in this dangerous game. Islamabad already
has alerted Washington about such an eventuality. It appears that
Bill Clinton will have his hands full on the external front during
his own election year. Mounting nuclear tension in the subcontinent
certainly was not in the cards in Washington.
Pakistan Appoints New Army Chief
Months of speculating and weeks of tension came to an end when
Pakistani President Farooq Leghari appointed Lt. Gen. Jehangir Karamat
as the next army chief of staff and commander-in-chief of Pakistan's
defense forces. Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto concurred with the
appointment and the nation breathed a sigh of relief. The office
of the commander-in-chief has attained extraordinary significance
because of the role that the army has played in affairs of the government.
Two military governments under Generals Ayub Khan and Zia Ul Haq
held power for more than 20 years, demolishing the budding political
institutions, silencing all opposition and running the country arbitrarily.
Only an air disaster in which the second military dictator, General
Zia, was killed, probably by sabotage, opened up the possibility
of a return of democracy in 1988.
Once the army leaves the barracks and enters the political arena,
it sets a bad precedent. History, across the globe, is full of examples.
The last civilian president of Pakistan, Ghulam Ishaque Khan, an
octogenarian who had his own ambitions, also played havoc with the
politics of Pakistan. Taking shelter in the constitution and following
the precedents bequeathed him by the late Zia, he undermined the
office of the prime minister and used the commander-in-chief to
bring about premature political change.
Once the army enters the political arena, it sets
a bad precedent.
Once Ghulam Ishaque Khan ousted Benazir Bhutto, and subsequently
he also pushed her arch-rival, Mian Nawaz Sharif, out of office,
using the threat of a military takeover both times. During a third
round, however, Benazir Bhutto out-maneuvered Ishaque Khan and managed
to keep the commander-in-chief, Gen. Abdul Waheed, originally an
Ishaque Khan appointee, on her side. So Ishaque was forced to depart.
The occupant of the army chief of staff and commander-in-chief position
remains the third key political player along with the prime minister
and the president, and at times the most important one. The Pakistani
press, therefore, keeps referring to the "ruling Troika."
It is Pakistan's good fortune that not all generals approve of
the army entering politics. Gen. Abdul Waheed, now retired, was
one of them. However, his viewpoint has not been shared by some
military commanders. Consequently, although the army's profile has
receded recently, its presence still is heavy.
Change in the Rank and File
Gen. Jehangir Karamat, who was the most senior military officer
before his appointment, has the support both of the military rank
and file and of the politicians, including Bhutto, Leghari and Sharif.
However, General Karamat is aware that he will be presiding over
an army that is increasingly different from that commanded by his
predecessors. The British military traditions are dead or dying.
The old Gymkhana (military clubs) where alcohol, gambling and womanizing
were tolerated or actively pursued are gradually being replaced
by more sober and God-fearing successors. These younger, middle-level
officers are acutely aware of the corruption that permeates both
the civil administration and political circles and are concerned
about the army's past role in tolerating or even participating in
the country's decadence.
Karamat will be taking over at a time when a group of officers
is being tried in a military court on charges of conspiring to overthrow
the government to bring about an Islamic revolution. The profiles
that have been published of the accused portray dedicated and honest
officers who have made no secret of their distaste for corruption
in and outside of the military. It is this increasing sentiment
in the military forces that adds a political dimension to the professional
soldier in Pakistan and lends added significance to the office of
the chief of the army staff.
It was perhaps in a state of despair about the downward trend in
Pakistan that Shahid Husain, a former vice president of the World
Bank, warned of dangerous times ahead in the Dec. 12, 1995 issue
of Dawn of Karachi: "Nations in crisis do not change
neatly," he observed.
Muslims of Mohammedpur
What does a refugee do when one half of the country that has provided
shelter and safety suddenly changes hands? The question gains seriousness
when the move in the first instance was through a deliberate political
choice at considerable physical risk and sacrifice. The question
has defied an answer for almost half a million people for the past
quarter century. They are the Biharis who, in December 1971, suddenly
found themselves in a country they had not opted to join when they
fled their former homes in India a generation earlier.
With the British withdrawal, the Indian subcontinent was partitioned
in August 1947 into the independent state of India and the new country
of Pakistan. Pakistan itself consisted of two physically separated
wings: East Pakistan and West Pakistan, in both of which Muslims
were in the majority. Partition caused a great upheaval and millions
crossed over from one side to the other either in search of security
and peace or to place themselves in an environment of their choice.
These were not tidy transfers. They were accompanied by much killing
and looting. One of the states severely hit by the riots was Bihar
in India. A great many members of the Muslim minority in Bihar migrated
to nearby East Pakistan. An enclave of Biharis formed just outside
of the capital city of Dhaka in the township of Mohammedpur.
In December 1971, the eastern wing of Pakistan seceded to become
the independent state of Bangladesh. The Urdu-speaking Biharis,
who had emigrated to East Pakistan, suddenly found themselves in
a new Muslim country with parts of their families left behind in
West Pakistan or in India. In the 1971 fighting that accompanied
the breakup of East and West Pakistan, India took over 90,000 Pakistani
prisoners, who included civilians as well as military personnel.
Almost two years later, Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and
Pakistani Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the father of present
Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, signed the Simla Agreement and the
POWs were returned to Pakistan. It was also agreed that arrangements
would be made to transfer those Biharis left in Bangladesh who wanted
to move to Pakistan. A great many of them expressed such a desire.
However, to this date nothing of the kind has happened.
The logistics for transfer of more than 300,000 people were discussed
for a long time among the governments of Bangladesh, India and Pakistan
when the option being considered was over land across the 1,000
miles of Indian territory that separated Bangladesh from Pakistan.
Once that option was dropped, India disappeared from the picture.
The only course then open was to transport the stranded Biharis
via sea. Years have passed working this out.
Several governments have come and gone both in Bangladesh and Pakistan.
Other issues in the two countries have confused the question. It
is feared, although not openly admitted, that once the now almost
half a million Urdu-speaking Biharis are brought to Pakistan, they
eventually will settle down in urban areas of Sindh, where other
Urdu-speaking Mohajirs live. This could exacerbate an already strained
situation between Mohajirs and the indigenous Sindhis. Then there
is the question of the cost of the transfer.
Pros and Cons
The Biharis of Mohammedpur are an impoverished people who have
no means to pay for their travel when and if it becomes possible.
While the powers that be continue to debate the pros and cons of
the issue, conditions among the Biharis who found themselves on
the wrong side of the line a generation ago have gone from bad to
worse. The International Red Cross, which for many years has tried
to alleviate some of their problems, has issued several reports
calling attention to the deteriorating condition of Mohammedpur.
Still, after 25 years, there is no political resolution of the transfer
problem in sight. Meanwhile, the decline of living conditions endured
by the Biharis continues.
M.M. Ali is a professor at the University of the District of
Columbia in Washington, DC. |