There was a time when it could be argued that Pakistan’s Kashmir policy depended on who ran the country—a democratically elected civilian government or a military ruler who, by definition, could take the army’s endorsement for granted. A premier, wary of public perception and being unsure of how the army top brass—the final arbiter of all things Indian—would react, invariably adopted a more hardline position. And ironically, a general in charge could afford to show more flexibility in tackling that old bone of contention, Kashmir, confident that such an endeavour would have the approbation of the Pakistani ‘deep state’.
For instance, both Zia-ul-Haq and Pervez Musharraf, the latter despite being the ‘villain’ of the Kargil misadventure, tried to think in out-of-the-box ways to deal with Kashmir and thus de-freeze the tense impasse in Indo-Pak ties. Sharif, despite his campaign promise to regularise relations with India, trembled and dithered before the ‘India question’, even after Narendra Modi showed political ingenuity aimed at the same ends.
That distinction is no longer valid, with significant regional and global changes prompting a tough stand by India. This stance got a sharper focus ever since the Modi government started dealing with the separatism in Kashmir exclusively via a security prism. But in the process, it has also started making Pakistan’s Kashmir policy appear more effective than what seemed possible say, even two years back.
The question of whether Pakistan’s uncompromising Kashmir policy would intensify, now that the Valley seems to be at a crossroads, was overshadowed for a while by developments on April 20, when its Supreme Court ended days of political anxiety by ordering a Joint Investigating Team (JIT) probe on corruption charges against PM Sharif and his family, which were brought to light following last year’s leaked Panama Papers. Despite ordering a probe, the apex court saved Pakistan from plunging into another phase of uncertainty—it didn’t ask Sharif to step down, though such a demand was made by cricketer-turned-politician Imran Khan and others in the opposition.
“The state of India-Pakistan relations is such that it cannot get any worse,” says former Indian foreign secretary Kanwal Sibal, while commenting on the Pakistani court’s ruling on Sharif. Sections in the Indian establishment argue that the court did not ask for Sharif’s removal simply to avoid creating a crisis, since it was difficult to find a leader with a national stature comparable to Sharif. So, while Sharif remains in power, he does so with greatly reduced leverage to operate, making him more susceptible to decrees flowing down from Rawalpindi GHQ. A chastised Sharif, who earlier tried to push the political envelope to create space to manoeuvre vis-a-vis the army, would now have to march to a martial tune.
Not that it would matter. Indian officials point out that Sharif, anticipating the usual criticism of being ‘soft’ on India—the ultimate charge against a Pak politician—had of late launched an aggressive international campaign to condemn Indian ‘atrocities’ following Burhan Wani’s death in Kashmir last year. “As far as India is concerned, nothing much is going to change. Pakistan will continue to highlight the ‘plight of the Kashmiri’ people at various international fora,” says a senior Indian diplomat. This rhetoric, he feels. is likely to intensify. Now that the Valley is on a boil, Pakistan’s attempt would be to project the indigenous Kashmiri protest on to a global screen rather than to use jehadi groups to foment trouble and target Indian security forces.
India believes that ISI and other agencies, through their militant proxies in the Valley, are now trying to encourage stone-pelters to confront authority. The low turnout during the recent bypolls was mainly because of this strategy. As observers point out, this constitutes a paradigm shift—India is being forced to fight Kashmiris in pitched street battles, rather than armed militants.
Ayesha Siddiqa, an Islamabad-based author, points out that there is comparatively lesser border crossing of militants, and that is precisely because the battle is predominantly being fought by ordinary Kashmiris themselves. “It is less of bullets and more of converting the mind,” says Siddiqa.
The major shift in Pakistan’s stand has come from both its experience during the Kargil conflict and later, following India’s “surgical strikes” after the Uri terror attack last year. India’s successful military and diplomatic riposte during Kargil had made Pakistan realise the futility of its hopes for a military victory to solve the Kashmir conundrum. Ironically, it would seem now, it forced Musharraf to think of newer solutions to resolve the Kashmir issue—one that came close to achieving its objective.
“But the Pakistani establishment still believed in the utility of using non-state actors willing to fight the war in Kashmir,” observes Siddiqa. The formula, she argues, involved avoiding conflict through nuclear deterrence, while pushing the conflict with the help of jehadis to bring attention to the unresolved issue.
This continued through various attacks on India, including 26/11. However, India’s ‘surgical strikes’ on terror launch pads in Pakistan also made it clear to the Pakistanis that if the two sides wanted to avoid a full-fledged conflict, with the N-button hovering above, it would be best to change tack. Under a revised policy, Kashmiris are to fight India, with secondary help from armed jehadis.
Siddiqa feels that in many ways this has become a zero sum game—the more the Indian state tries to suppress, the more it flares up, hampering daily life, eroding state machinery. “Militants are also capitalising on Modi’s image as a crusader against Islam, thus against Kashmiris.”
Sibal categorically rejects such an argument, pointing out that India continues to be a secular state despite a few ‘stray cases’ of cow vigilantism. “There are several debates going on; many are on improving the condition of poor Muslims. Therefore, it’s grossly unjust and misleading to bunch them together to explain the situation in Kashmir.”
Instead, he argues that Pakistan’s confidence stems from the fact that many key countries like the US, Russia and China are trying to engage with it to ensure stability in Afghanistan. “It makes Pakistan realise that their efforts to nourish and encourage terrorists elsewhere would be overlooked as long as the stability of Afghanistan is on the agenda,” says Sibal.
Two other factors seem to have emboldened Pakistan—each with its UNIque signature. One is the multi-billion-dollar China-Pakistan-Economic-Corridor (CPEC); the other is what Islamabad sees as the ‘keenness’ of US President Donald Trump to mediate in Indo-Pakistan matters. “Most countries now see the CPEC as a game-changer,” says Pakistani political commentator Hamid Mir. He points out that key regional and other international players see the CPEC as a great investment opportunity. Therefore, they have a stake in the normalisation of Indo-Pak relations and a solution to the Kashmir issue.
Moreover, Mir argues that Trump the businessman loves a good deal. “Only Trump can make a deal on Kashmir which can provide a face-saver not only to India and Pakistan, but also satisfy Kashmiris.” However, Siddiqa strikes a note of realistic caution—the Kashmir issue will not subside unless a resolution is found to the satisfaction of the Pakistani military.
In what way, if ever, can the Gordian knot of Kashmir be untangled? Though she does not address it directly, Siddiqa points out unhesitatingly: “It may not necessarily be a plebiscite, but it could be a breaking away of Kashmir.”
At a time when the two nuclear-armed neighbours are engaged in a game of brinkmanship over the issue of former Indian naval officer Kulbhushan Jadhav, who was dubbed as a ‘spy’ and sentenced to death by the Pakistani military, the withering fire in Kashmir only adds to a mix that can create a conflagration. It needs to be handled with sober political maturity.
