For long, layers of questions have frozen over the efficacy of Operation Sadbhavana as a sustained effort by the army to earn the warmth of Kashmiris riddled in bouts of extremism over the past quarter century. Ever since its end-1999 launch to promote people’s goodwill for the men in olive-green in the Valley, the border state has seen an array of initiatives aimed at diluting a sense of public alienation prevalent since 1990 when insurgency broke out in its capital. The results have often borne their share of criticism, yet a current quagmire has lent the chapter a grim dimension like never before.
It all began this mid-February when the chief of army staff (COAS), General Bipin Rawat, blamed the local population for allegedly preventing the forces from conducting anti-militancy operations. He went on to say that people attempting such deeds will be considered anti-nationals. The statement sent bad vibes to those beyond the intended target, what with pro-India political parties in Kashmir seeing it as an admission of “failure” of Operation Sadbhavana that also features welfare and development projects across the Valley besides in Jammu and Ladakh.
Separatist political leaders, predictably, have taken offence to the army chief’s description of Srinagar’s stone-throwing protesters as “overground workers” of militants. Even the milder among them are dismayed. “It is appalling,” says Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, who chairs the Awami Action Committee. “The head of the armed forces of a state issuing open threats and warnings to unarmed civilians goes against the law.”
The main Opposition National Conference (NC) finds the COAS’ statement as a symptom of public alienation having hit an “all-time high”. Tanvir Sadiq, who is a political advisor to the party’s working president Omar Abdullah, says Gen Rawat’s words amount to “issuing a sort of threat” to the people. “It shows how much the army’s Sadbhavana project has failed,” he tells Outlook.
In one go, Sadiq—like fellow politicians—is dismissive of the efficacy of the operation that the army launched in rural Jammu and Kashmir four months after the victory over Pakistan in the Kargil war that ended in July 1999. The NC leader is seeking a dialogue to address root cause of the problem. “Let everyone step back as previously suggested by the army’s northern commander, and let the political process begin,” he says.
Army chief Gen Bipin Rawat
It is the pro-Indian political parties that seem most worried over the responses to Gen Rawat’s statement. They urge for a political initiative, while repeating hackneyed phrases such as “the need to have dialogue with all stakeholders” to stem a slide in the situation.
A look at the depths of distrust between the army and the people will plumb several points down the state’s socio-political graph starting early 1990, when mass uprising triggered exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from the Valley. For instance, in the middle of that decade, a banner by Ikhwanis—an army-backed counter-insurgent militia—at their camp in south Kashmir’s Anantnag district, read thus: “Get them by their balls, the hearts and minds will follow”. Cut to August 19 last year, at height of a summer unrest after the killing of militant Burhan Wani, the voice had mellowed a lot. The army’s then northern commander, Lt Gen D.S. Hooda, appealed for calm: “Everyone needs to step back and sit together to find a way out of the current situation”.
That way, critics see the army chief’s February 14 statement as a sign of defeat of the 17-year-old operation. A fortnight before it, Gen Rawat was in Kashmir—and his emphasis remained on counter-insurgency, besides vigil along the Line of Control and, above all, on Sadbhavana. During his January 31 visit, the COAS went to the Victor Force headquarters at Awantipora, where he was briefed about the situation in restive south Kashmir region that saw big-time protests since 22-year-old Wani’s end on July 8 last year.
After Gen Rawat’s visit, the army released a note that said he “appreciated the professionalism with which the troops had been operating in full synergy with other security and civil agencies to keep the situation under control and impressed upon everyone to uphold human rights at all times”. The statement of the army’s media cell, Chinar Media Heart, did have “the heart” in its mind. Since then, it regularly came up with statements about the army’s reachout initiatives. Like, on February 2, it said, “...to encourage students and to instil confidence and goodwill in the hearts of budding future of Kashmir, a drawing competition was conducted at Higher secondary school, Ajas, wherein 30 students participated with great excitement.”
Then, on February 14, the army lost four soldiers, including a Major, in two encounters—in north Kashmir’s Bandipora and Kupwara districts. The tone suddenly changed: the COAS said those who obstruct “our operations during encounters and are not supportive will be treated as overground workers of terrorists”.
The response was quick, fiery. Scores of youngsters in Srinagar’s Old City took out green flags on February 17 (a Friday), raising banners that read “we are all overground workers”. The next day, the army and the police claimed they had to call off an anti-militancy operation in south Kashmir’s volatile Pulwama district as youths hurled stones at them.
A senior police official describes stone-throwing during gunfights between militants and the forces as “regular”. The trend, he recalls, started much before the killing of Wani. This February 13, an encounter at Frisal hamlet of Kulgam district killed four militants in an army encounter, while stone-throwing protesters—according to the police—helped three other ultras escape. Two army men were also killed.
Local residents allege that a civilian was killed as the army used him as a human shield during the operation, a charge denied by the police and the army. Ensuing protests saw 18 civilians being fired upon by government forces. One of them, 22-year-old Mushtaq Ahmad Itoo, succumbed to injuries, showing that the protesters enjoyed no leniency even before Gen Rawat’s statement about the stone-throwing supporters. A police official says no link exists between Operation Sadbhavana and the army chief’s cautionary words. “That statement, I think, was given to reduce the tension after the killing of the soldiers.”
But politicians, including Sadiq, say the government soon vindicated the army chief’s position. For, the deputy commissioners of Srinagar, Budgam, Kulgam and Shopian issued an advisory to the people, asking them to remain away from the encounter sites. “It shows how deep the alienation is,” the NC functionary says, insisting redressal of the problem. “This tells upon your police’s mass-contact programme as well.” Sadiq wants dialogue and implementation of recommendations in the reports submitted by the interlocutors and the Yashwant Sinha committee.
Officially, the police mass-contact is also on the pattern of the goodwill operation. “Winning the hearts and minds is the basic essence of works undertaken during civic action,” reads the police introduction of the programme.
Like Sadbhavana, the civic action programme has under it academic coaching centres, self-employment units and sports events. The army has taken up a slew of development projects, spending above Rs 500 crore in the past decade—with focus on education, women and youth empowerment, infrastructure development and health and veterinary care. The army also organises motivational tours to outside J&K to expose Imams, community leaders and schoolchildren to development.
Yet the initiatives are not yielding the desired results. “There are a few things that money can’t buy: goodwill is one of them,” a senior state government functionary says. “Sadbhavana failed because it came to be seen as a cheap enticement, a trap, a bait, a dole without dignity and most importantly a contraption for neutralising political ideologies.”
Another official finds it “too silly” to think that an effort that is deliberate, publicity-oriented and unimaginatively executed could have worked in a conflict zone. “The main problem is the method,” he says. “The army tried to overdo and overkill the idea, turned it into a military operation, generated a strong counter-idea against it and lost the plot.”
The engagement with civil administration vis-à-vis these projects is “procedural”, according to a lower-rung employee. For, the army tries to spend Sadbhavana money on things that, according to civil officials, can yield nothing beyond a photo-op. “They will never agree to be at the back end and let the civil administration spend these funds on more urgent public issues,” he adds.
One thing, though, the officialdom acknowledges is the Army Goodwill Schools. Even so, there are bad examples. The government previously described as “defunct” hundreds of mini hydel projects constructed by the army under Operation Sadbhavana in far-off border areas. Dr Peer Ghulam Nabi Suhail, who heads the Srinagar-based Centre for Research and Development Policy, says military-led development programmes have been inherently interventionist, entering into a domain where they have no expertise. “It has happened to Sadbhavana of the Army and the police’s civic action programmes. They benefit only contractors,” he argues. “If the purpose of the programme is to win the people, then this would require basic withdrawal of forces from tourist places, farm lands, forests areas and, of course, from private buildings and an end to human rights violations in the region. Ultimately, you must find a solution to the political problem through a political process rather than seeing it as a governance issue.”
The army defends Sadbhavana, saying the operation is doing excellently well in all the regions of the state. “The COAS’s statement has a context; it is for people’s safety,” says a senior army officer. “It isn’t a negation of Sadbhavana.” In the battle of winning minds, the army too believes that heart of the matter is political.
By Naseer Ganai in Srinagar
