Sentimental Borders

The Pakistan-India Forum for Peace and Democracy, brainchild of Dr Mubashir Hasan, former Pakistan finance minister and ceaseless campaigner for better understanding between the two countries, gave an opportunity to me and four former colleagues from the ministry of external affairs to visit our neighbour. This was an entirely unofficial effort. We went with no message and represented no authority. During our stay, we met ngos, think-tanks, media, social activists, private individuals and some high officials, thus encountering a cross-section of Pakistani opinion. From all sides, one message was constantly thrust at us: the two countries had to find a way out of the morass. France and Germany had settled centuries-old issues, Northern Ireland had progressed, now even the two Koreas were talking, so why not us? There was a palpable desire to break free from the cycle of strife and hostility.

This should come as no surprise to India, where similar sentiments are no less widespread. But sentiments alone do not advance us very far. The beliefs and demands that led to the problems remain deeply entrenched. Our numerous interlocutors hoped for something good to happen but between the wish and the reality the gap remains.

The issue, of course, is Kashmir. Our visit closely followed the announcement of a ceasefire by the Hizbul Mujahideen. Added to earlier moves in India to release Hurriyat leaders and talk to them, this brought a moment of hope. Many of those we met could envisage, as they ardently desired, an expanding and strengthening ceasefire setting the stage for talks. Dialogue was the unvarying demand: put away the guns, let’s talk.

But the undercurrents were also apparent. Exploratory meetings in Srinagar between Indian negotiators and militant groups created the anxiety that Pakistan may be left on the sidelines. How to bring Pakistan into the process was a preoccupation with several of our interlocutors. Tripartite talks of the type demanded by the Hizbul were too much to ask for, yet New Delhi’s readiness to include Pakistan at a later stage did not answer their compulsion. The conundrum was not resolved and even while we were in Pakistan, the ceasefire was rescinded and the horrifying massacres of pilgrims to Amarnath perpetrated.

The ceasefire and what it signified drew many opinions. Nobody gave credence to the official denial of complicity in the decision. It simply wasn’t possible, was the general view, in print and elsewhere, that the Hizb could have announced a ceasefire without clearance from one or other of Pakistan’s hidden authorities. The purpose remained unclear. Was there some pressure from a third party, or some unacknowledged secret bilateral contact? Were different agencies pulling in different directions? There were no answers and no limit to the speculation about what was actually happening in this unseen world of manoeuvre.

Indian calls for an end to violence as a prelude to dialogue did not have much consequence. In their eyes, it is India itself that stands accused of violence, not the ‘freedom fighters’. So, asking the ‘mujahideen’ to cease their struggle would only smooth the way for even tighter Indian control. Differing attitudes to Kargil reflect a similar division of view: many Pakistanis see it as a costly blunder but not as a gross betrayal that requires some form of expiation. Behind the talk on these issues is the apprehension that if things do calm down in Kashmir while Pakistan stands aside, it will lose its influence altogether - again, the fear of marginalisation.

On a broader front, there is little sabre-rattling to be found. There is no mood of military confrontation. Nuclear weaponry was not brandished at us and many individuals called for steps to contain the nuclear threat. Army control is not sought to be justified in terms of India. The preoccupations are internal and Nawaz Sharif remains the favourite target. Meanwhile, politics is slowly reviving. The all-party conference which took place during our visit called for early resumption of normal activity, which may be of no immediate relevance but suggests that the parties are looking to the future. Separate functions organised for us by two senior leaders gave the same message. It is bound to be an uneasy coexistence till such time as military rule once more goes into remission. For the present at least, relations with India do not enter into this internal argument.

Perhaps this more sober mood has something to do with the realisation that Pakistan is going through a rough time. The economy is in recession, politics obstinately non-democratic, there are international problems. India, by contrast, seems formidably secure in its great size, its successful governance and its economic dynamism. Indeed, the India they see is not quite the same as the one we contend with every day: there may be a tendency to idealise, born of disappointments at home. Whatever the cause, behind the screen of daily propaganda is a solid, perhaps exaggerated, respect for India.

Economic problems abound, though you wouldn’t believe it from the comforts and conveniences of daily life. There is a risk of default on foreign debts if the imf cannot be mollified by December. Trade with India remains a remote possibility. Yet, in the more down-to-earth world of Karachi, one friend told me that governments should get out of the way and let businesspersons arrange bilateral affairs: they would soon find a way.

We are all too aware of the daily bitterness and hostility. Our few days in Pakistan showed there is also a different public sentiment to be found. Many committed people are trying to add a further dimension to the discourse, which points unequivocally towards peace and removal of barriers. They believe, and who can deny the validity of their thought, that both countries need a better relationship with each other if they are to achieve their full potential.