THE MEN IN KHAKI

 

By: Mariam Habib

As far back as I can remember, one thing that I was always known for by anyone who knew me, whether as passing acquaintances or fast friends, was that three subjects were explicitly taboo as far as any sort of criticism just or otherwise, subtle or blatant, was concerned – unless, of course, they were ready to have their heads bitten off. They were Pakistan, Quaid-i-Azam and Pakistan Army. Never once was I ashamed to be emotional about them, nor concerned that such a stance will portray a one dimensional thought process, generally scoffed at by most, if not all intellectuals.

However, as age calmed the volatility of youth and experience taught tact, sentiments such as these were more often than not kept to oneself; opinions, however offensive, were tolerated and army bashing was taken in stride as questions that disturbed even my intellect were ruthlessly asked and pointedly highlighted to ridicule an unquestioning loyalty to an institution which to me is synonymous with Pakistan, its army.

It took the sacrifice of more than a 100 soldiers to jar me out of that intellectual complacency and shame me into admitting that there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with being irrationally sentimental about an institution which has given us so much for so long. It reminded me that when I say Pakistan Army, I do not speak of generals or the ever theorised ‘sinister’ establishment or any of our historic dictators; I speak of the common soldier. He epitomises the army. A man who stands up and says my country means more to me than my life, I will sacrifice my comfort so that others may rest easy, I will bear the harshest of conditions to stand guard so that others may be safe, I will endure separation from loved ones so that others need not and if need be I will gladly lay down my life so that my fellow countrymen can be spared. So next time you slur the army, it is this man that you dishonour.

So much has been said and written about the corrupt elements present in the army, the budget allocation to defence, martial laws and, of course, General Zia and General Musharraf, that we somehow miss the most basic facts in all such debates. Men who go into the army are not reared in laboratories or sent from above; they are part of the same demographic that calls itself Pakistani – the only difference is that the army, perhaps, is the only institution in Pakistan that has a system in place, which actually works, at least for most part; a system that allows accountability and integrity; that ensures honesty and hard work by drilling its participants with all sorts of physical and intellectual challenges.

There is no denying that mistakes were made, and some did put personal interest in front of national interest, but that is inevitable wherever humans are part of the equation. Yet, during times of crisis our first line of defence has always been our soldiers. Whether we like it or not, the huge defence budget has been Pakistan’s necessity, rather than the army’s luxury. Anyone who has gone step by step through our history knows under what conditions Pakistan was made, what challenges we faced from day one and how the continued existence of our motherland is nothing short of a miracle in itself.

Starting from scratch at the time of Independence to being a nuclear power today is a monumental achievement for Pakistan and the role of the armed forces has been integral in this. The bitterest of all truths is that where all faux pas and all blunders are so glaringly apparent to everyone and highlighted to no end by the so-called ‘experts’ or ‘champions of democracy’, all the sweat and blood and all the sacrifices that are part of a soldiers everyday existence go unnoticed.

I have always been frustrated with the assumption that a soldier’s life is one of luxury, the general perception that exists is that you join the army and a horde of servants are at your beck and call, you have a fleet of cars at your disposal, you live in the best neighbourhoods unjustly acquired by the army for your comfort and in general live like lords ruling over the less fortunate civilians – and I think to myself, how can I show them the life a soldier and his family actually lives.

The agony of knowing that life and death hangs in a delicate balance for a loved one posted in Siachen or fighting against insurgents on the western border. The anguish of receiving the dead body of your son, who hadn’t even seen his 25th birthday or the grief of widowhood a year into your marriage, such is life for a soldier and his family. There is neither fortune, nor fame for a common soldier; there is just honour in life and honour in death.

Today as another 135 families are devastated by the loss of a loved one, I stand and salute our armed forces and their families. I give them my utmost respect and gratitude and ask their forgiveness for not realising just how much I owe them.

   The writer is a freelance columnist based in the US.

CIA instigating mutiny in the Pakistani army

By M K Bhadrakumar

 

The unthinkable is happening. The United States

is confronting the Pakistani military leadership of General Parvez Kayani. An

extremely dangerous course to destabilise Pakistan is commencing. Can the

outcome be any different than in Iran in 1979? But then, the Americans are

like Bourbons; they never learn from their mistakes.

The NYT report today is unprecedented.

The report quotes US officials not less than 7 times, which is extraordinary,

including “an American military official involved with Pakistan for many

years”; “a senior American official”, etc. The dispatch is cleverly drafted to

convey the impression that a number of Pakistanis have been spoken to, but

reading between the lines, conceivably, these could also probably have been

indirect attribution by the American sources. A careful reading, in fact,

suggests that the dispatch is almost entirely based on deep briefing by some

top US intelligence official with great access to records relating to the most

highly sensitive US interactions with the Pak army leadership and who was

briefing on the basis of instructions from the highest level of the US

intelligence apparatus.

The report no doubt underscores that the US intelligence penetration of the

Pak defence forces goes very deep. It is no

joke to get a Pakistani officer taking part in an exclusive briefing by Kayani

at the National Defence University to share his notes with the US

interlocutors – unless he is their “mole”. This is like a morality play for we

Indians, too, where the US intelligence penetration is ever broadening and

deepening.

Quite obviously, the birds are coming to

roost. Pakistani military is paying the price for the big access it provided

to the US to interact with its officer corps within the framework of their

so-called “strategic partnership”. The Americans are now literally holding the

Pakistani army by its jugular veins. This should serve as a big warning for

all militaries of developing countries like India (which is also developing

intensive “mil-to-mil” ties with the US). In our country at least, it is even

terribly unfashionable to speak anymore of CIA activities. The NYT story flags

in no uncertain terms that although Cold War is over, history has not

ended.

What are the objectives behind the NYT story?

In sum, any whichever way we look at it, they all are highly diabolic. One, US

is rubbishing army chief Parvez Kayani and ISI head Shuja Pasha who at one

time were its own blue-eyed boys and whose successful careers and

post-retirement extensions in service the Americans carefully choreographed

fostered with a pliant civilian leadership in Islamabad, but now when the

crunch time comes, the folks are not “delivering”. In American culture, as

they say, there is nothing like free lunch.

The Americans are livid that their hefty “investment” has turned out to be

a waste in every sense. And. it was a very painstakingly arranged investment, too.

In short, the Americans finally realise that they might have made a miscalculation

about Kayani when they promoted his career.

Two, US intelligence estimation is that things can only go from bad to worse in

US-Pakistan relations from now onward.

All that is possible to slavage the relationship has been attempted. John Kerry,

Hillary Clinton, Mike Mullen – the so-called “friends of Pakistan” in the

Barack Obama administration – have all come to Islamabad and turned on the

charm offensive. But nothing worked. Then came CIA boss Leon Panetta with a

deal that like Marlon Brando said in the movie Godfather, Americans thought

the Pakistanis cannot afford to say ‘No’ to, but to their utter dismay, Kayani

showed him the door.

The Americans realise that Kayani is fighting

for his own survival – and so is Pasha – and that makes him jettison his

“pro-American” mindset and harmonise quickly with the overwhelming opinion

within the army, which is that the Americans pose a danger to Pakistan’s

national security and it is about time that the military leadership draws a

red line. Put simply, Pakistan fears that the Americans are out to grab their

nuclear stockpile. Pakistani people and the military expect Kayani to

disengage from the US-led Afghan war and instead pursue an independent course

in terms of the country’s perceived legitimate interests.

Three, there is a US attempt to exploit the growing indiscipline within the

Pak army and, if possible, to trigger a mutiny, which will bog down the army

leadership in a serious “domestic” crisis

that leaves no time for them for the foreseeable future to play any forceful

role in Afghanistan. In turn, it leaves the Americans a free hand to pursue

their own agenda. Time is of the essence of the matter and the US desperately

wants direct access to the Taliban leadership so as to strike a deal with them

without the ISI or Hamid Karzai coming in between.

The prime US objective is that Taliban should somehow come to a compromise

with them on the single most crucial issue of

permanent US military bases in Afghanistan. The negotiations over the

strategic partnership agreement with Karzai’s government are at a critical

point. The Taliban leadership of Mullah Omar robustly opposes the US proposal

to set up American and NATO bases on their country. The Americans are willing

to take the Taliban off the UN’s sanctions list and allow them to be part of

mainstream Afghan political life, including in the top echelons of leadership,

provided Mullah Omar and the Quetta Shura agree to play ball.

The US tried its damnest to get Kayani to bring

the Taliban to the reconciliation path. When these attempts failed, they tried

to establish direct contact with the Taliban leadership. But ISI has been

constantly frustrating the US intelligence activities in this direction and

reminding the US to stick to earlier pledges that Pakistan would have a key

role in the negotiations with the Taliban. The CIA and Pentagon have concluded

that so long as the Pakistani military leadership remains stubborn, they

cannot advance their agenda in Afghanistan.

Now, how do you get Kayani and the ISI to back

off? The US knows the style of functioning of the Pakistani military. The army

chief essentially works within a collegium of the 9 corps commanders. Thus, US

has concluded that it also has to tackle the collegium. The only way is to set

the army’s house on fire so that the generals get distracted by the

fire-dousing and the massive repair work and housecleaning that they will be

called upon to undertake as top priority for months if not years to come. To

rebuild a national institution like the armed forces takes years and

decades.

Four, the US won’t mind if Kayani is forced to

step aside from his position and the Pakistani military leadership breaks up

in disarray, as it opens up windows of opportunities to have Kayani and Pasha

replaced by more “dependable” people – Uncle Sam’s own men. There is every

possibility that the US has been grooming its favourites within the Pak army

corps for all contingencies. Pakistan is too important as a “key non-NATO

ally”. The CIA is greatly experienced in masterminding coup d-etat, including

“in-house” coup d’etat.

Almost all the best and the brightest Pak

army officers have passed through the US military academies at one time or

another. Given the sub-continent’s middle class mindset and post-modern

cultural ethos, elites in civil or military life take it for granted that US

backing is a useful asset for furthering career. The officers easily succumb

to US intelligence entrapment. Many such “sleepers” should be existing there

within the Pak army officer corps.

The big question remains: has someone in

Washington thought through the game plan to tame the Pakistani military? The

heart of the matter is that there is virulent “anti-Americanism” within the

Pak armed forces. Very often it overlaps with Islamist sympathies. Old-style

left wing “anti-Americanism” is almost non-existent in the Pakistani armed

forces – as in Ayaz Amir’s time. These tendencies in the military are almost

completely in sync with the overwhelming public opinion in the country as

well.

Over the past 3 decades at least, Pakistani

army officers have come to be recruited almost entirely from the lower middle

class – as in our country – and not from the landed aristocracy as in the

earlier decades up to the 1970s. These social strata are quintessentially

right wing in their ideology, nationalistic, and steeped in religiosity that

often becomes indistinguishable from militant religious faith.

Given the overall economic crisis in Pakistan

and the utterly discredited Pakistani political class (as a whole) and

countless other social inequities and tensions building up in an overall

climate of cascading violence and great uncertainties about the future gnawing

the mind of the average Pakistani today, a lurch toward extreme right wing

Islamist path is quite possible. The ingredients in Pakistan are almost

nearing those prevailing in Iran in the Shah’s era.

The major difference so far has been that

Pakistan has an armed forces “rooted in the soil” as a national institution,

which the public respected to the point of revering it, which on its part,

sincerely or not, also claimed to be the Praetorian Guards of the Pakistani

state. Now, in life, destroying comes very easy. Unless the Americans have

some very bright ideas about how to go about nation-building in Pakistan,

going by their track record in neighbouring Afghanistan, their present course

to discredit the military and incite its disintegration or weakening at the

present crisis point, is fraught with immense dangers.

The instability in the region may suit the US’

geo-strategy for consolidating its (and NATO’s) military presence in the

region but it will be a highly self-centred, almost cynical, perspective to

take on the problem, which has dangerous, almost explosive, potential for

regional security. Also, who it is that is in charge of the Pakistan policy in

Washington today, we do not know. To my mind, Obama administration doesn’t

have a clue since Richard Holbrooke passed away as to how to handle Pakistan.

The disturbing news in recent weeks has

been that all the old “Pakistan hands” in the USG have left the Obama

administration. It seems there has been a steady exodus of officials who knew

and understood how Pakistan works, and the depletion is almost one hundred

percent. That leaves an open field for the CIA to set the

policies.

The CIA boss Leon Panetta (who is tipped as

defense secretary) is an experienced and ambitious politico who knows how to

pull the wires in the Washington jungle – and, to boot it, he has an Italian

name. He is unlikely to forgive and forget the humiliation he suffered in

Rawalpindi last Friday. The NYT story suggests that it is not in his blood if

he doesn’t settle scores with the Rawalpindi crowd. If Marlon Brando were

around, he would agree.

Ambassador M K Bhadrakumar was a career diplomat in the Indian

Foreign Service. His assignments included the Soviet Union, South Korea, Sri

Lanka, Germany, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Kuwait and

Turkey.

The soldier —Ayeda Naqvi

If stories like these don’t force us to rethink the cynicism we seem to have adopted as a nation, then nothing will
He did not return.
The nurse had found him
crying at night
not because of the pain
or because he was dying
He felt he had let his country down.
At home, I could only think of
his blood shot eyes.
Who would tell his family?
I wrote another letter
and posted it in the same letter box.— Shafaq Husain

My mother is no poet. But volunteering to work in an army hospital after the 1965 war, she was so moved by what she saw that she found her voice. She still talks about the lines of volunteers outside the hospitals, the blood donors who gave so much blood that the hospitals ran out of bottles.

And she still talks about this young soldier, lying on a metal bed with a hole in his abdomen, crying because he could not go back and fight.
If stories like these don’t force us to rethink the cynicism we seem to have adopted as a nation — the world-weary “no one deserves our compassion” attitude that continues to plague us — then nothing will.

Yes, many institutions in our country have earned the reputations they carry today. But projecting the scorn onto the young men laying down their lives for us is not just misdirected cynicism, it is treason. Ask anyone who has ever had a loved one serve in the army.

A friend of mine has been an army wife for more than twenty years. Her husband is often posted in such remote areas that he comes home for three days after every four months. She describes the scene as he prepares to leave.

“Your heart is in your throat,” she says, “but you can’t show it. He needs to know that we are all fine. When he sits in that jeep, he can’t look back. Looking back can cost him his life. So I watch him quietly as he puts on his uniform, his belt. Sometimes there is a gun attached. I pray extra hard those days.”
“The house is extra quiet that morning,” she continues. “Even the girls are quiet. I know they are thinking, ‘Is this the last time we will ever see our Baba smile again?’ The youngest one always finds a reason to cry that night.”

A soldier who served in the army for 14 years wrote to me after my last article (“Where is our yellow ribbon?”, May 5). He described the toll army life had taken on his family and him: he suffered from Chronic Mountain Sickness, high blood pressure and loss of memory for years after being stationed at high altitudes. His daughter’s studies suffered from having to move so often. And his wife lost a child because she was unable to get the little girl to the hospital in time.

These are the stories of our soldiers, men who have picked this path not because they have to but because they choose to. Some of these accounts leave images in our minds that are often difficult to get rid of, like the soldier who recovered the dead body of his friend, killed in winter, after the snow had melted. The corpse was lifeless, but the watch on the wrist was still ticking.
A

nother army wife describes how her husband returned after months from a hard area posting. He was quieter than usual. At night, he would twitch in his sleep. He would jump at the slightest sound. She learned later that he had discovered the body of one of his closest comrades, skinned by the Taliban and left at the barracks.
Last month, a 23-year-old soldier in Swat was shot through the head by the Taliban. He survived but is permanently paralysed. He has a young wife and an 18-month-old daughter. He says that he would give his life for his country. But when he turns on his television set at night and sees the negative, cynical coverage, he wonders whether his sacrifice was worth it.

I ask my friend whether giving her life to the army — she was 18 when she got married — has been worth it. She is quiet. “Yes,” she says softly. “I would do it all over again.”
“But there are some things that get to you,” she says. “Like the sound of the army boots, the sound of them thumping on the cement floor. It is difficult to describe it to someone who has never heard it but the boots, they have a certain heartbeat in them.”

When you are stationed in remote places, alone for so long, she explains, you become aware of every sound around you. And at the end it are these sounds that have the power to break you. She describes the loud, metallic thud of the gates as her husband leaves. “I can’t explain the ghabrahat I feel when I hear this sound,” she says.
And yet the slamming shut of the gates has been a part of her life for 22 years. It is always followed by a long period of waiting.
I think of the soldier my mother nursed more than forty years ago. Did his family ever receive the letter she posted? Who was waiting for him? These are the stories that we never hear.

Ayeda Naqvi is a journalist who lives and works in Lahore. She can be contacted at ayedanaqvi@yahoo.com