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Tuesday March 19, 2024

Legal eye: Our Saddam gene

By Babar Sattar
September 23, 2017

It is natural for an underdog to root for a fellow underdog in a contest with a giant. When the US attacked Iraq during the first Gulf War almost all of Pakistan cheered for Saddam. We were just happy that someone had stood up to the 800-pound gorilla. We received with glee the news that what had initially seemed like destruction by the US of Iraq’s fighter jets parked on an airfield on the night of attack were actually dummies. Many believed that the clever Saddam had tricks up his sleeve and would turn the desert into a nightmare for the Yanks.

The joy was short lived. Soon enough Iraq suffered complete annihilation. A second war followed and the fate of Saddam (and Iraq) due to his stubborness is before us. Libya is another wonderful country destroyed primarily due to the arrogance and folly of its dictator. The question is not whether the US has blood on its hands and its wars are unjust and unnecessary. The question is why the leaders of these weaker countries didn’t pursue policies that would keep the gorilla at bay and pre-empt the destruction of their people.

It is imprudent for a weaker side to egg a Goliath on – unless, of course, the weaker side is a David. Putting interests and intentions aside, the US has the ability to cause serious damage to Pakistan through use of its hard and soft power if it so chooses. We can debate policy alternatives in managing this relationship best suited to pursue and defend Pakistan’s interests. But the ego-driven blinkered view that we chide the US and make an antagonist out of it to assert our ‘honour’ is plain stupid. We must do everything to avoid a conflict with this giant.

The US’ finger wagging and Brics’ critique of our security policy have triggered fresh blame-game, with Chaudhry Nisar and Imran Khan on one side and PM Abbasi, Kh Asif and Ahsan Iqbal on the other. Both sides represent divergent schools of thought – justification versus introspection. One side believes that patriotism requires blindly justifying current policies and insisting that they are correct and virtuous. And that our interests will be best served if we tell off all countries that suspect we patronise militants and force friends to pick sides.

The other side argues that our best interest will be served by introspection and putting our house in order while convincing the world that we are part of the solution in the fight against terror, not the problem. That self-accountability and critiquing our policies with a view to improving them isn’t admission of guilt but a mandatory requirement for healthy sustainable policies. And that one must not shun admission of a problem merely because such acknowledgment might bring temporary happiness to a foe or be misused for propaganda.

The introspection school is correct. A fundamentally misconceived policy can’t turn fruitful just because an entire country yells at the top of its lungs that the policy is faultless. The justification school suffers from the delusion that our image problem is a marketing issue. That if we have better salesmen the world would eat out of our hands. Sadly, even a perfect marketing campaign can only do so much to camouflage afflictions of a product or story being sold. We need to candidly debate whether our image is a product or sales issue.

At the heart of this debate are two foundational questions: what is Pakistan’s best interest and what is the best way to secure it. But how do you engage in a debate when one side has declared that defending the existing policy tooth and nail is in the country’s best interest (without disclosure of what the policy is or critiquing assumptions behind it or dividends produced by it)? This is backed by the invidious assertion that anyone questioning the said ‘policy’ is only doing so with the ill motive of hurting Pakistan and its army.

Because the policy has a de jure version to be defended and a de facto version to be pursued and the process through which it is articulated is opaque, there is no way to comprehend and analyse the policy except by placing blind faith in the wisdom of its khaki authors. An unintended consequence of servile acceptance of such policy is a crisis of ownership and implementation: civilian institutions remain confused about its content, indifferent about their role in implementing it, and complacent about its limitations and the need to fix them.

In the Quetta Commission Report, Justice Faez Isa had alluded to contradictions, both within the policy and its implementation, while indicting the government and Chaudhry Nisar. The judge had found that, “the Ministry of Interior is without clear leadership and direction; consequently, it is confused about its role in combating terrorism. The Ministry’s National Security Internal Policy is not being implemented. The officers of the ministry appear more interested in serving the minister than the people of Pakistan.”

“The National Action Plan is not a plan in any structured or meaningful way, nor have its goals been accordingly monitored or implemented…The Anti-Terrorism Act has been violated: Proscribed organisations continue their illegal activities and new terrorist organisations are proscribed after long delays. Some terrorist organisations have still not been proscribed or prosecuted, even when their statements acknowledging terrorist attacks are broadcasted and printed.”

“The people of Pakistan have been subjected to sustained terrorist attacks, which continue unabated, and deserve answers. Those who have failed the people of Pakistan need to be held accountable. Things cannot go on as they have been. Without top-tier accountability, it is unlikely systemic change will be possible…The National Action Plan should be made into a proper plan, with clear goals, a comprehensive monitoring mechanism, and periodic reviewing. It should also be translated into Urdu for wider dissemination and understanding.”

The Quetta Commission had demanded, without mincing words, that we put our house in order. Such demand doesn’t belittle sacrifices rendered by the army in fighting militancy, contrary to assertions by politicos grovelling to seek khaki patronage. It only means that the kinetic war against militants is necessary but not sufficient and that our policy in dealing with terror organisations is afflicted with contradictions, which makes it ineffectual and undermines gains made in the war theatre.

Apologies for again flagging the rule in      Rylands v Fletcher: “the person who for his own purposes brings on his lands and collects and keeps there anything likely to do mischief if it escapes, must keep it in at his peril, and, if he does not do so, is prima facie    answerable for all the damage which is the natural consequence of its escape.” When 9/11 forced a change in our Afghan policy, our erstwhile assets became a liability, they saw our national army as a ‘Pervaizi lashkar’ and we’ve lost 1000s of soldiers and citizens during the clean up.

What happens if we reach a settlement on Kashmir one day, which will naturally rile up hawks on both sides of the fence? Will the LeTs, JeMs and their kosher sister concerns pack up shop and dedicate themselves exclusively to philanthropy? Will our radicalised human weapons magically disassemble automatically? Have we not paid enough social, economic and human cost already that we are seeking to mainstream radicalised militant groups, diversify their skills and deploy them in the political theatre as well?

It is no heresy to assume that no matter how well intentioned, the judgment of our generals can be fallible. Sunlight is the best disinfectant they say. Disclosure, scrutiny and accountability strengthen the health of policies, not weaken them. Our security policy must stand on its own merit and not be propped up by some skewed notion of patriotism, which, as Samuel Johnson had pointed out long ago, is the last refuge of the scoundrel.

The writer is a lawyer based in Islamabad.

Email: sattar@post.harvard.edu