India’s pretensions

The British Empire had a penchant to view everything, including colonization and the mechanizations involved, as a game. It was Captain Arthur Conolly, a British intelligence officer, who coined the Great Game phrase.

A 19th century saga of power politics between Czarist Russia and Victorian Britain, the Great Game was enacted in what is Gilgit-Baltistan in Pakistan, and Afghanistan and Central Asia. Rudyard Kipling borrowed the phrase and fictionalized it in ‘Kim’, his novel.

During one of these ‘gamely’ cloak and dagger missions to enable British control over Bukhara (Uzbekistan), Conolly was caught. He was executed, along with Colonel Charles Stoddart, again a British spy.

In those times, Gilgit was deemed the roof of the world. Base of the world’s greatest mountain ranges, Karakoram, Himalaya, Hindukush and the Pamir, it was also at the confluence of the Chinese, British and Russian empires. Having been involved in the 1891 British campaign against Hunza and Nagar, Edward Frederick Knight’s ‘Where three Empires meet’ encapsulates the sights and sounds of Kashmir, Gilgit and Tibet of those times.

After the 1905 defeat of Russia at the hands of Japan, the Great Game met an ignominious end with Afghanistan recognized as a buffer by Russia and Britain. British historian Peter Hopkirk’s epitaph to the Great Game reads: “It was quickly entombed in unread memoirs, the occasional name in the yellowing intelligence reports of that long-forgotten adventure”.

It was with the dissolution of the once feared Soviet Empire that the yellowing intelligence reports were dusted and phoenix like rose what has been dubbed the New Great Game. The Afghanistan invasion, as relevant to terrorism as was the criminally lied about arsenal of WMDs possessed by Iraq, was the initiation of this New Great Game. It is a far more brutal and complex version of the 19th century one.

Today, Central Asia, a region brimming with vast natural resources in an otherwise energy starved world, is the epicenter of the New Great Game again. The Pak-China Karakoram Highway, tracing Marco Polo’s fabled Silk Route; passing through Gilgit-Baltistan has been functional for over forty years. A Pakistan-phobic India has suddenly woken up to the fact that by renaming it CPEC, India has some claim on Gilgit-Baltistan, the gateway to CPEC.

CPEC is the initial phase of China’s huge and ambitious ‘One Belt One Road’ (OBOR) initiative. The Gwadar Port is the lynchpin of CPEC. Presently, 80 percent of Chinese oil is transported through the Strait of Malacca, a mammoth 16000 kilometer trek.

CPEC shall constrict this distance to about 3000 kilometers, saving China billions of dollars and the specter of a blocked Strait of Malacca in case of war in this region. Pakistan too shall reap the economic benefits given the planned projects. CPEC shall also give China direct access to the Indian Ocean; an Indian nightmare.

It was this mindset that forced India to invest in Iran’s Chabahar port as a counter to Gwadar, a mere 175 kilometers away. Given its litany of setbacks in the last couple of years, India has now been struck off from the Chabahar-Zahedan railway line project, which would have later been extended to Zaranj in Afghanistan. India, now a US surrogate, is wary of cooperating with Iran. Moreover, India’s intent was to covertly use Chabahar as a Pakistan-centric terrorist launching pad. Kulbhushan’s confessions are a living testament.

This reversal comes on the heels of a Chinese 25-year, 400 billion dollar strategic pact with Iran. The details have not been shared by either Iran or China but there are reports that the pact shall entail a military, intelligence and weapon development aspect too. China shall get oil at discounted prices for 25 years from an arbitrarily US sanctioned Iran.

The initiation of CPEC saw a frenzied India release a map showing Azad Kashmir and Gilgit-Baltistan as part of India. It also showed Nepalese territories as its integral part. Pakistan, to the chagrin of India, released its own map showing Occupied Kashmir, Ladakh and Junagadh as part of Pakistan. At the recent Russia hosted SCO meeting, a flustered Ajit Doval walked out after his objection to this displayed map was rejected by Russia and member countries.

Nepal too retaliated by rightfully showing Kalapani, Limpiyadurah and Lipulekh pass as Nepalese territory. India’s overtly shrill bellicosity epitomizes raised hackles in private. It views Nepal’s Lipulekh Pass as a Chinese saunter down path to India.

The Indian army chief, General Naravane, a Bipin Rawat clone, burst out publicly that “Nepal might have raised this problem at the behest of someone else (read China)”. A little introspection would have educated the general about India perpetually bullying all its neighbors to the extent of its blockading Nepal, a small landlocked neighbor. He should also imagine the capability of his force if Nepal withdraws its 32000 Nepalese Gurkhas from the Indian army.

Modi and his cronies have repeatedly threatened to abrogate the Indus Waters Treaty. Nothing could be more vile and repugnant than using water as a weapon. In 2016, Modi warned Pakistan that “blood and water can’t flow together”. The same year, in his Independence Day speech, the mahatma of Occupied Kashmir and Gujarat gushed at the gratitude of the people of Gilgit-Baltistan on voicing their ‘human-rights violations’.

Raj Mohan, an Indian academic and analyst, elucidated India’s hegemonic designs in a Foreign Affairs article titled ‘India and the Balance of Power’. He quoted the Chanakayan mandala as India’s matrix of hegemony. He wrote: “India’s grand strategy divides the world into three concentric circles”.

“The first encompasses the immediate neighborhood. Here, India has sought primacy and a veto over actions of outside powers. The second encompasses the extended neighborhood, stretching across Asia and Indian Ocean littoral. India has sought to balance other powers and prevent them from undercutting its interests. In the third, which includes the entire global stage, India has tried to take its place as one of the great powers, a key player in international peace and security”.

Today, India’s hegemonic designs lie bare; its Chanakyan mandala is in shambles. Primacy in its immediate neighborhood is being thwarted even by Nepal and Bangladesh, its erstwhile allies, let alone Pakistan. The second neighborhood is no less a debacle for India as using Afghanistan as a Pakistan-specific terror launch pad is fast diminishing, despite billions in investments and terror-financing slush funds. China, despite their ingrained patience, has had enough evident by the Indian casualties in their latest standoff.

That leaves us with the Indian dream of attaining what Modi deems their entitlement: a permanent seat at the Security Council. Addressing the recent 75th UNGA session, Modi’s sense of misplaced entitlement was evident when he frustratingly questioned as to how long “India with its unique contribution to the UN will be kept out of the decision making structures of the United Nations”?

Acting a sage he said: “This is a country, which has hundreds of languages, hundreds of dialects, many sects, and many ideologies”. A voice echoed: “yet under my stewardship Hindutva prevails ruthlessly at the cost of all of them”. He went on to say, “One could say that we have successfully avoided a third World War”; the same voice whispered; “yet I threaten my neighbour with the mother of all bombs, something I desperately want to do because now I cannot cow it down”.

The dichotomous farce continued as he gushed, “India will not hesitate in raising its voice against the enemies of humanity, human race and human values, these include terrorism.....”; the persistent voice wailed, “who shall avenge the innocent children, women and men of Kashmir, Gujarat and the nameless, countless Indian minorities whose blood fails to quench your insatiable thirst; Kulbhashan a living yet abandoned testament to your duplicity. How can you even dream of sermonizing about peace, human values and terrorism”?

There is a rhythm to history. It is a keeper that records the cycle of seemingly impregnable empires fading and vanishing; reduced to the dusty annals of historical manuscripts. The props in the New Great Game bring about a sense of eerie deja vu. The only aberration is that, despite India’s obnoxious pretensions, it is neither Russia nor the British Empire.

Email: miradnanaziz@gmail.com