With an assist from the United States, Indian and Pakistani leaders succeeded in avoiding a war this summer, but they remain at loggerheads. Official communications have not resumed and military forces remain in the field, ready to fight. Both New Delhi and Islamabad have, however, expressed satisfaction with the strategy and tactics employed during the crisis, which relied heavily on brinkmanship and deterrence. This confidence seems misplaced and could lead to another, even more dangerous, confrontation later on—unless difficult steps are taken in both capitals to tackle the issues prompting the recurring crises.
National leaders draw lessons from N-tinged crises. After the Cuban missile crisis, US and Soviet leaders established the 'hot line' and negotiated a nuclear test ban treaty. After a war scare in 1983, nuclear risk-reduction centres were established, and both countries negotiated an accord to eliminate dangerous missiles from the European theatre. During the Cold War, the prospect of nuclear miscalculation was profoundly disquieting, prompting redoubled efforts at improving communication and avoiding direct clashes.
What lessons did the Indian government learn from the war scare in May and June of this year? New Delhi asserts its war mobilisation has clarified Pakistan's links to terrorist networks, and that it has elicited a pledge by President Pervez Musharraf to US interlocutors to end permanently the support for infiltration from across the Kashmir divide. Moreover, in this crisis India seems to have made the first public moves to reposition its missiles, letting it be known that Prithvis stored near Hyderabad had been relocated to positions near the border. By signalling their readiness to employ nuclear capabilities in the event of a Pakistani first strike, Indian officials apparently believe that they called Pakistan's nuclear bluff, clarifying the serious intent to wage a limited war against terrorism.
In the view of many Indian officials, lingering problems in calibrating deterrent-threats remain—but these apply to distant powers, not to Pakistan. In this view, the US, the UK and other countries habitually overreact to South Asian crises. By issuing travel advisories and by recalling non-essential personnel, Washington and London showed spinelessness and unduly harmed the Indian economy.
This recurring lesson—that distant governments are prone to misread the subcontinent—may well be true. But it is rather odd to expect that the same moves designed to convince Pakistan of India's readiness for warfare would be interpreted as mere bluff by Washington and London. New Delhi made it a point of principle not to talk to Islamabad during the crisis. When nuclear-armed adversaries deploy their strike corps, when leaves are cancelled, and when nuclear-capable forces are readied for use, it is excusable for foreign governments to look after the safety of their citizens in the region. This is not a capitulation to nuclear blackmail; it is simple prudence.
What lessons did the Pakistani government learn from the latest instance of brinkmanship? Military leaders and commentators there have claimed that their tactics were successful in calling India's bluff. In this view, by mobilising Pakistan's conventional forces, and by clarifying readiness to cross the nuclear threshold, Indian designs were checkmated. Consequently, Pakistani military leaders are likely to conclude during the next crisis that the Indian government is reluctant to fight, and that Pakistan need not succumb to pressures from New Delhi.
Pakistan, like India, might also conclude that some recalibration of deterrent-messages are in order. Again, not for its neighbour, but for the outside world.By talking tough about the nuclear option and by flight-testing three missiles during the crisis, Pakistan sent the requisite 'hands off' message to India, but it left itself open to western charges of irresponsible nuclear stewardship. Hence the Pakistani officials' soft-peddling of the nuclear dimension in the final weeks of the crisis.
This analysis, drawn from deliberations of South Asia experts convened by the Stimson Center in Washington, might appear to be yet another example of over-dramatisation from afar. Indian and Pakistani leaders have the power to prove this analysis wrong by moving away from postures based on the presumption that brinkmanship and deterrence work, and that risks of war are manageable.
Brinkmanship has been evident in Pakistan's support for jehadi operations in Jammu and Kashmir, as well as in India's threats to go to war unless these operations cease. When both leaderships believe they can succeed at brinkmanship, dangers are compounded. Success in brinkmanship on one occasion is no guarantee against failure in the next. Every crisis has a different character and context; preparing for a future crisis has the same pitfalls as preparing to fight the last war. In addition, brinkmanship cannot be repeated very often in the absence of war—otherwise the threat to use force will ring hollow. Sooner or later, the bluff will be called. And when conventional deterrence fails, no one can confidently predict the course of warfare.
Moving away from the brink requires a choreography of conflict resolution. It requires separate but mutually reinforcing steps that advance national security by shedding failed policies. Infiltration across the Kashmir divide is not a tradable commodity in this process. In fact, the cessation of infiltration is central to the linked issues of war avoidance, a satisfactory resolution of the Kashmir dispute, and N-risk reduction. New Delhi can't be asked to reward Pakistan for stopping infiltration, but it can reasonably be expected to adopt policies that make the region a safer place. A posture that reinforces brinkmanship by refusing to open lines of communication with Pakistan invites a failure of deterrence.
(The author is founding president, Stimson Center, and co-editor of the forthcoming Nuclear Risk Reduction in South Asia)