Why terrorists have the advantage

The writer is an analyst and commentator.

Criticism of Pakistan’s state institutions has increased substantially in recent weeks, especially since the terrorist assault on the Bacha Khan University in Charsadda. The context for the Bacha Khan University attack is not a secret. The head of the Lal Masjid, Abdul Aziz continues to taunt the Pakistani state with one provocative statement after another.

The effectiveness of killing people as a counterterrorism strategy, as opposed to merely a tactic, is being tested. Criticisms of capital punishment in general, and military courts in particular, are accumulating as many of us wonder – watching the smouldering remains of terror attack sites in Mardan, Jamrud, Quetta and Charsadda – how effective these policy measures really have been. Though unpopular, some rights activists have even questioned the killing of terrorist leaders in police encounters.

All this criticism is being targeted at the entire spectrum of the Pakistani state: district officials, the police, provincial governments, paramilitary forces, cabinet members, the military services, the intelligence community and the federal government are all getting a black eye from the criticism.

Worst of all, in perhaps the most powerful strategic communications offensive since the GHQ attack of 2009, the TTP and its affiliates have been able to shut down schools across the country, as a result of the threat they issued immediately after the Bacha Khan University attack. Compounding the growing crisis of confidence, a bumbling inquiry report by the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa government holds the university administration responsible for the attack – as if university vice chancellors, principals and teachers signed up to their jobs to act as front-line defenders against the diabolical terrorist fiends that find glory in the gruesome murders of children in places of learning.

It all seems to have happened quite fast. Just a month and a half ago, on the anniversary of the APS attack in Peshawar, many Pakistanis (including myself) were reflecting proudly on the successes of 2015. The Zarb-e-Azb operational gains had deepened far enough to allow for the return of many displaced Pakistanis, Karachi had a different and more vibrant feel to it, the CPEC projects seemed to largely be on track, and groups like the TTP and LeJ were having to adjust to a Pakistani state that sought to fast track their meeting with The Maker.

Naturally, both the civilian and military leaderships would much rather that Pakistanis continue to focus on the many gains made by the state since the twenty-fourth of December 2014, when the National Action Plan was first announced. As the crescendo of disapproval builds and the nervous ticks of closed schools accumulate, the prime minister and the chief of army staff should be under no illusions: it is time to stop hoping that the bad news will go away. It won’t.

Without fast action, based on deep, clear-headed thinking, the post-Charsadda bad news will not only not disappear, it will grow. For the first time since the APS attack, the terrorists have not only succeeded in scoring a battlefield victory, but also consolidated it by capturing the national discourse with their video threat. Taking terrorist momentum lightly is what got Pakistan into quicksand in the first place. Repeating the complacency of 2008 onwards would be a mistake of epic and existential proportions.

To avoid this complacency, we must examine two facets of the situation simultaneously. The first is the sense of panic and helplessness that the closed school debate represents. The second is the inadequacy of the National Action Plan to manage all of this.

On the panic and helplessness, I’d like to share some personal reflections. As many readers may know, I work for the Alif Ailaan education campaign (which is funded by the UK’s Department for International Development). Last week, several friends in the media asked me to provide information or insights on what the closed schools represent. Ordinarily, I am keen to use the opportunity to speak about Pakistan’s unforgivable education crisis – however last week, I told most media outlets that the discussion on closed schools is one that I do not wish to comment on in the media.

The reason for my reticence was quite simple. As a parent, one of my instincts is probably the same as every single parent in the country: let’s shut all the schools down, indefinitely. It is about the security of our kids after all. As a citizen, my other instinct is that we cannot allow terrorists to define what we do, or allow them to decide how we go about our day, our week or our month. As I vacillated between these two natural instincts, many members of the team at Alif Ailaan felt it would be improper to share statistics about cost incurred by closing schools for a day – because this was a financial consideration, whilst the larger issue was about the safety and security of children.

These are complicated and difficult debates to have with oneself, what to say of trying to have them on national television. Yet almost two weeks since the Bacha Khan University attack, it seems this is a debate that Pakistanis are having in a vacuum. The state seems least interested in weighing in meaningfully. Provincial governments are acting independently of each other, and the federal government, rather than helping cohere and collate their responses to this challenge, awkwardly points out deficiencies in the provincial approaches.

Watching the interior minister criticise the reaction of the provincial governments to the terrorist video that promised further attacks on schools and universities was like witnessing outtakes from a Stanley Kubrick film. Part absurd, part revolting. As Pakistanis feel a sense of panic and helplessness in the face of the TTP’s threats, instead of offering meaningful comfort and clarity, our state – at both the institutional and individual level – could only offer a macabre drama of egos, political point-scoring, provincialism and paralysis.

Of course, all the panic and helplessness being felt is not disconnected from the fundamental inadequacies of the National Action Plan. If anything proves the growing incapacity of the state in Pakistan to process, analyse, plan and act effectively – in response to anything – it is the National Action Plan.

First, let’s consider how NAP was put together. The plan was formulated in less than eight days (APS attack took place on December 16, PM announced NAP on December 24). It drew upon the expertise of four experts from outside government, as well as contributions from the interior ministry, the Foreign Office, the prime minister’s office and the army high command, including the intelligence community. It was as thin a roster of contributors as one can imagine for a document of its importance.

Second, let’s consider what NAP actually is. It is not an action plan. Action plans delineate timelines, resource requirements, risk levels, mitigating factors, strategy, tactics, operations and a whole host of other considerations. They take into account history, research and institutional dynamics.

What does NAP do? It is a shopping list of 20 items that the dumbest anchor on TV could come up, given enough time to Google things. In short, it is a disgraceful excuse for a policy document.

Proof? The following constitutes one-fifth of the entire NAP:

4. “Nacta, the anti-terrorism institution will be strengthened”.

6. “All funding sources of terrorists and terrorist outfits will be frozen”.

15. “No room will be left for the extremism in any part of the country”.

18. “Action against elements spreading sectarianism”.

For a country with almost 200 nuclear weapons, and over 200 million people, the National Action Plan is a breathtakingly weak document.

The problem isn’t that Pakistan isn’t implementing NAP. The problem is that there is nothing in NAP to implement. The longer the prime minister and army chief continue to rely on brain-dead bureaucrats to shape the destiny of Pakistan, the weaker and more vulnerable this country will be. The TTP and its affiliates may be from caves, but their messaging and tactics reflect more sophistication than what the Islamic Republic of Pakistan has written down as its plan to root them out. It should be no surprise that the momentum belongs to the terrorists.