Written evidence submitted by Dr Matthew
J Nelson, Department of Politics and International Studies, School
of Oriental and African Studies, University of London
INDIA AND THE PROBLEM OF RELIGIOUS MILITANCY
IN PAKISTAN OR "THE ROAD TO DELHI PASSES THROUGH ISLAMABAD"
INTRODUCTION
1. The global significance of India, like
that of China, will expand enormously during the next ten years.
The pace of this expansion, and its various trajectories, will
be shaped by numerous considerations, only one of which will be
discussed in the pages that follow. This consideration involves
the relationship between India and Pakistan. How will developments
in Pakistan affect developments in India? How might developments
in Pakistan threaten to derail or retard developments in India?
2. The relationship between India and Pakistan
is complex, encompassing a shared colonial history, a bitter separation
along ostensibly religious lines, a cold-war pattern of ideological
divergence, and an evolving nuclear "balance". In this
paper, I will limit my comments to persistent concerns about religious
extremism and militancy in Pakistan, drawing special attention
to the ways in which these concerns have affected India—for
example, in the form of violent attacks within India itself—and
the implications of this violence for India (and Pakistan) during
the next five to 10 years: strategically, politically, and so
on.
3. How should we understand and engage current
debates regarding the nature of religious extremism and militancy
in Pakistan? Who is actively involved? Who is not actively involved
but consistently supportive? And, perhaps more importantly, how
are various efforts to respond to existing patterns of extremism
and militancy framed in terms of specific policy options? Is a
return to democracy in Pakistan, for example, likely to produce
an environment that is less "congenial" for religious
extremism and/or militancy? And, finally, what can the UK do to
promote peace in Pakistan and, by extension, in India?
4. Given the complexity of these issues,
my comments will not attempt to address "the root causes"
of extremism. Instead, a careful review of several closely related
issues has led me to focus on a set of events unfolding, during
the last three years, in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas
(FATA) located along the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan—and,
more specifically, events unfolding in Waziristan (2003-06). In
fact, my discussion will address broad regional trends. But it
will use an account of recent events in Waziristan as a touchstone
to make these trends easier to understand.
5. In September 2006, General Pervez Musharraf
signed a negotiated settlement—a "truce" of sorts—with
local leaders in Waziristan. This agreement noted that the Pakistan
Army would not persist in its assault on local communities in
Waziristan if local leaders promised to prevent Taliban and al-Qaeda
affiliates from crossing the border between Waziristan and Afghanistan
to battle American, NATO, and coalition forces inside Afghanistan.
(Unfortunately, this agreement was said to lie in tatters after
American intelligence officials compelled Pakistan to bomb a madrasa
inside FATA, at a place known as Bajaur, killing 82. This in turn
led local members of the Taliban to retaliate with a suicide mission
targeting the Pakistan Army, at Dargai, killing 42. As one man
said, following the attack on the madrasa, "Everyone hates
America now, and they hate Musharraf for giving in to American
pressure." "We're all becoming al-Qaeda now," he
added, "even me" (11 November 2006) (The Washington
Post, p A01).)
6. The question that I will address, in
the context of this paper, is: How should we regard the agreement
that was signed in September in the context of wider efforts to
address the problem of religious extremism, militancy, and terrorism—not
only in Pakistan, but throughout South Asia? Should we treat this
agreement as a model for future negotiations with local groups
or a worrisome precedent—in effect, a frightening example
of appeasement? And, even beyond these questions, moving away
from the agreement itself to a series of questions regarding its
long-term sustainability, is there any reason to believe that
a democratically elected regime in Pakistan would pursue a different
strategy vis-a"-vis local militants?
DEFINING THE
PROBLEM: MILITANCY
IN PAKISTAN
7. Drawing special attention to the problem
of religious extremism, border insecurity, and violence, Foreign
Policy magazine recently placed Pakistan on a list of the world's
top 10 "failed states," locating Pakistan (No 9) one
step ahead of Afghanistan (No 10) (May/June 2006). A special report
on Pakistan prepared by The Economist (July 2006) was also
deeply pessimistic, notwithstanding Pakistan's robust state of
economic growth—on average, roughly 7% per year during the
last five years.
8. The implication, of course, lay in pointing
out that, for those with an interest in addressing the problem
of extremism, insecurity, violence, and terrorism, economic growth
is not enough. Indeed, Peter Bergen and Swati Pandey noted in
The Washington Quarterly (Spring 2006) that 79% of the
world's leading terrorists did not emerge from impoverished families
who sent their children to study in dilapidated rural madrasas.
On the contrary, most of them have emerged from middle-class families
and modern urban universities. Economic development, they noted,
does not compete with religion; in many cases, they simply work
together. Indeed, recent concerns about religious extremism and
militancy in Pakistan's Northwest Frontier Province (NWFP) have
produced a 400% increase in development expenditures in and around
Waziristan (US$67 million in January 2004). But, as Pamela Constable
reported in The Washington Post, this increase has had
almost no effect in terms of altering, or moderating, local religious
views. "Once an isolate backwater, ... Bannu [bordering Waziristan]
now teems with signs of construction," she noted, "including
a new hospital, new schools, and cellphone shops." But, at
the same time, "the area has become increasingly conservative
in its religious views and that dozens of new Islamic academies,
or madrasas, have opened" (28 September 2006, p A01).
9. As Ashutosh Varshney (University of Michigan)
explains in his assessment of the potential for state failure
in Pakistan, however, the role of religion (including religious
extremism) within "society at large" is less important
than the role of religious extremism within the state itself.
"Compared to the 1960s," he writes, "the big difference
now is that the rise of Islamism within the state and the army
is unmistakable, as the state has developed considerable incapacity
to monitor [the] anti-state activities of state officials as well
as citizen groups so long as these activities are couched in Islamic
language" ("Lasting Injuries, Recuperative Possibilities:
The Life Cycle of an Insufficient National Imagination" in
Reconsidering Salman Rushdie, Daniel Herwitz and Ashutosh Varshney,
eds. University of Michigan Press, forthcoming, p 6).
In fact, Varshney suggests that Pakistan has
developed a remarkable incapacity to cope with or sift through
the many different faces of "political Islam."
10. This incapacity—this paralysis
or lack of nuance vis-a"-vis the terms of political Islam—he
argues, is fundamental to any understanding of political instability
in Pakistan and, at least potentially, the possibility of state
failure at some point in the future. In fact for Varshney, the
question is: How should we understand this incapacity to deal
with the terms of political Islam in Pakistan? How can Pakistan—and,
by extension, India—avoid, address, or overcome this incapacity?
What are the options that policy makers confront? Which approaches
to "political" Islam in Pakistan are likely to accelerate
the process of state failure? Which approaches are more likely
to avoid it?
11. In order to answer these questions,
it's important to step away from material, institutional, and
political matters for a moment, allowing some space for rhetorical
considerations as well. How should we address or discuss the terms
of "political Islam" in Pakistan?
12. In its Fourth Report of 2005-06, entitled
"Foreign Policy Aspects of the War Against Terrorism"
(July 2006), the Foreign Affairs Committee noted that "much
greater effort needs to be made to communicate effectively with
the... Islamic world in order to bridge the gulf of mistrust that
feeds into international terrorism". The UK and its allies,
including the US and India, in other words, need to hone their
ability to make themselves understood, drawing useful distinctions
within the landscape of "political Islam" in order to
avoid painting with vague or broadly underspecified strokes—strokes
that some are quick to redefine, not as strokes against "terrorism,"
but rather, as strokes "against Islam."
13. The case of Waziristan is illuminating,
I believe, insofar as it draws this rather sensitive rhetorical
landscape—the rhetorical landscape of political Islam in
Pakistan—into sharp relief.
The Rhetoric of Political Islam
14. In Waziristan, the "adversary"
is defined in two ways. In the first instance, broad strokes are
used to describe a general climate of religious extremism, including
(a) local members of the Taliban, (b) foreign al-Qaeda fugitives
(some of whom settled in Waziristan shortly after the Soviets
withdrew from Afghanistan in 1989), (c) non-militant enthusiasts
associated with the "revivalist" Tablighi Jama'at, as
well as (d) political activists connected to mainstream political
parties like the Jama'at-e-Islami or the Jamiat-ul-Ulema-e-Islam
(JUI-F and JUI-S)—all members of the ruling Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal
(MMA) coalition in Peshawar. Here, the "adversary" is
described in terms of all of those forces that are believed to
contribute to a creeping climate of "Talibanisation,"
not only in Waziristan but also in other parts of FATA, and, eventually,
throughout the Northwest Frontier Province (NWFP) and Pakistan
as a whole.
15. According to this perspective—this
"broad strokes" perspective—an effective response
to religious extremism, militancy, and "terrorism" is
one that seeks to address the forces of political Islam as a whole.
16. The second approach is more discriminating.
Here, the "adversary" is defined much less broadly,
with important distinctions being drawn between, for instance,
(a) local Taliban sympathisers and (b) foreign al-Qaeda "miscreants."
The latter are regarded as a serious global threat. The former,
a rather parochial (political) force.
17. Once upon a time, these distinctions
made a great deal of sense. (In 2001, for instance, it was easy
to differentiate the larger political goals—in effect, the
global political goals—of al-Qaeda, on the one hand, from
those of the Taliban, on the other.) Since 2001, however, the
universalizing rhetoric of America's "war on terror"
has blurred many of these distinctions, drawing otherwise quite
different groups, with very different goals, into a common struggle
against the United States.
18. In 2002, for example, reports explained
that, despite massive support within FATA and the NWFP, local
members of the Tablighi Jama'at consistently maintained a safe
distance from the Taliban (Mumtaz Ahmed, "The Militant Movement
in Pakistan," Pakistan's Future and US Policy Options, Washington:
CSIS, 1 May 2002). By 2006, however, the relationship between
the Tablighi Jama'at and the Taliban had grown much closer. In
fact, when the Jama'at scheduled a large gathering (ijtema) at
Miranshah, in North Waziristan, the Taliban declared a unilateral
ceasefire in its battle with the Pakistan Army to accommodate
them—a ceasefire the Army respected.
19. One could of course argue that this
recent pattern of coalescence justifies the "broad strokes"
approach mentioned above. But a more nuanced historical assessment
would suggest that this pattern of coalescence is simply a consequence
of the universalising rhetoric associated with precisely this
type of broad strokes approach. In other words, the broad strokes
rhetoric underpinning America's "war on terror" simply
created an environment in which important ideological differences—for
example, differences between the Tablighi Jama'at, the Taliban,
and al-Qaeda—could be papered over to create an equally
"unified" response.
20. Within Pakistan, secular forces tend
to adopt this "broad strokes" approach, noting that
every expression of political Islam constitutes a broad political
threat and, at least potentially, a specific terrorist threat.
But the government of General Pervez Musharraf has not adopted
this view. In fact, the government of Pervez Musharraf routinely
opens itself up to accusations of duplicity when it attempts to
distinguish its commitment to addressing the threat associated
with al-Qaeda from its persistent reluctance to oppose the Taliban.
21. The Inter-Services Intelligence Agency
(ISI), in particular, has been accused of playing a double game—assisting
with the pursuit of al-Qaeda operatives in various Pakistani cities
while, at the same time, supporting (or at least failing to oppose)
the Taliban resistance in Afghanistan—including cross-border
infiltrations—in order to maintain a certain amount of influence
over "domestic" Afghan affairs. In fact, from the perspective
of General Pervez Musharraf, these distinctions make a great deal
of sense: one side devoted to addressing the scourge of "international"
terrorism; the other devoted to preserving a sense of "strategic
depth" in the context of "regional" political affairs.
22. Both perspectives—the "broad
strokes" perspective and the "subtle distinctions"
perspective—are understandable. Both make sense in their
own rhetorical context. But, as a rhetorical matter, the most
important factor (indeed the deciding factor) is often a local
factor, and in this context—how do those on the ground respond
to these competing rhetorical frames—the "broad strokes"
argument appears to face a clear disadvantage.
23. In fact, the people of Waziristan do
not paint with broad strokes. They are quick to express their
frustration with the Taliban, but they support the Taliban nevertheless.
And they support the Taliban precisely because the universalizing
"broad strokes" rhetoric of America's "war on terror"
appears to create a situation in which the Taliban are believed
to stand for Islam against the secular (read: Islamophobic) US.
Musharraf's policy, in other words, often regarded as a duplicitous
policy, was initially greeted with some enthusiasm in Waziristan,
precisely because it sought to distinguish the foreign (al-Qaeda)
from the local (Taliban) without rejecting—in fact, explicitly
supporting—the specific terms of Islam.
24. Initially, when Musharraf sent his forces
into Waziristan (late 2003/early 2004) to smoke out "foreign
al-Qaeda miscreants," his efforts were strongly supported
among secular leaders in Pakistan. (Even the MMA, in Peshawar,
devoted to its status as an elected regime with unprecedented
access to the resources of the modern state, failed to articulate
strong objections.) But, not unlike the US in Afghanistan and
Iraq, Musharraf soon allowed his military commanders on the ground
to paint with broad strokes. And, before long, his incursion into
Waziristan was reinterpreted as "an assault on Islam at the
behest of the United States." This, in turn, set the stage
for his failure—first, in the court of public opinion (throughout
Pakistan) and, second, on the battlefield itself.
25. Too often, we see a policy of engagement
with Islamist groups like the Taliban, Hamas, or Hezbollah, as
an either/or proposition. We either support them or oppose them.
And of course, typically, we oppose them. But the case of Waziristan
illuminates the pitfalls of such an underspecified approach. In
fact, given the nature of public opinion in Waziristan—and,
more specifically, the role of religious rhetoric within that
opinion—the broad strokes approach may be less effective
than one which appreciates, and attempts to engage, various distinctions.
Indeed, the comments of Canadian Defence Minister Gordon O'Connor,
later echoed by US Senator Bill Frist (R-TN), deserve some attention.
"We cannot defeat the Taliban militarily," noted O'Connor.
They simply enjoy "too much popular support," Frist
added.
Insofar as this is the case, however (and the
military misadventures in Waziristan, Afghanistan, and Iraq suggest
that it is), it may be useful to consider an approach that begins
to see a political future for the Taliban—one in which public
opinion, the concerns of Pervez Musharraf, and the terms of "political
Islam" as a legitimate rhetorical framework each play some
part.
26. Indeed, the challenge in Waziristan,
just as much as anywhere else, does not lie in "defeating"
the terms of "political Islam." No, the challenge lies
in developing a rhetorical framework that seeks to foster a climate
of "dialogue." It is not enough to say that "we
refuse to negotiate with terrorists" if the "terrorists"
we reject enjoy overwhelming local support. On the contrary, the
challenge lies in opening up new spaces for a discussion about
terrorism ... within the communities we seek to engage.
The Importance of Dialogue
27. The Waziristan Agreement was, at least
initially, welcomed by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO)
for at least two reasons, both of which indicate that this agreement
could be regarded as a model for those with an interest in addressing
the problem of religious extremism and militancy elsewhere. First,
the agreement recognises that, currently, public sentiment is
with the resistance—proceeding, if you will, "against
the United States" and "in favour of Islam." Indeed,
this pattern of resistance is likely to remain firmly in place
until the language of Islam is explicitly taken up as a valuable
diplomatic resource by coalition forces—something Musharraf
clearly attempted but the United States, so far, has not. Second,
and in a closely related fashion, The agreement signed by Musharraf
recognizes the insurmountable military challenge associated with
a conflict waged against the terms of "political Islam"
(broadly defined).
28. Insofar as this is the case, however,
the question arises: Is it possible (or advisable) to work within
"the public" in Pakistan to address the scourge of extremism
in that country? Is it possible to harness the forces of democracy
(as opposed to dictatorship) to reduce the risk of religious extremism,
militancy, and terrorism? Is democratic debate, or "dialogue,"
the answer?
29. This is an important question, because
a careful reading of all that has gone before might suggest that,
even if public sentiment does not lie with al-Qaeda in Pakistan,
public sentiment does lie with the Taliban ... at least in Waziristan.
How, then, could one go on to say that efforts to promote the
terms of democracy will push against religious extremism? Isn't
it possible that a move in the direction of democracy would have
exactly the opposite effect?
30. The answer, as I will explain (below),
is "no; such an effort would not have the opposite effect."
In fact, my reading suggests that efforts to promote democracy
will deter extremism for reasons closely related to the factors
that allowed the homogenising rhetoric associated with America's
"war on terror" to intensify the rhetoric of extremism
in the first place. Briefly stated, democracy does not homogenise
local debates; instead, it invigorates and elaborates them—pushing
extremists out of the political mainstream and into the political
margins.
FRAMING A
SOLUTION: DICTATORSHIP
OR DEMOCRACY?
31. Since 1999, when General Pervez Musharraf
seized control of Pakistan in a military coup, the problem of
religious extremism has not been reduced. On the contrary, it
has increased. In fact, shortly after 1999, and then increasingly
after 2001, Musharraf created a situation in which domestic support
for religious parties and, in due course, religious forms of political
opposition and resistance, was allowed—even encouraged—to
expand. This was accomplished in two ways, ways that I will now
proceed to explain.
(Separately, each of these factors must be regarded
as politically understandable. But together, I would argue, their
effect on the problem of religious extremism and militancy has
been profoundly counterproductive.)
32. First, the coup led by General Pervez
Musharraf, in 1999, was followed, almost immediately, by an assault
on the political "mainstream". In particular, the leaders
of the two largest political parties—the Pakistan People's
Party (PPP), led by Benazir Bhutto, and the Pakistan Muslim League
(PML-N), led by Nawaz Sharif—were sent into exile. In addition,
new electoral laws were introduced to limit the influence of the
political "old guard". These laws required candidates
standing for elected office in the national and provincial assemblies
to show evidence of an undergraduate university degree. (Ostensibly,
Musharraf expected these laws to usher in a new generation of
educated political elites. But, in a concession to the religious
right, he also made an exception for those who studied in local
madrasas, noting that madrasa sanads would be regarded as the
"eligibility equivalent" of a standard university degree.)
33. In an effort to ensure that this push
to marginalise the political "old guard" was complete,
Musharraf also proceeded to tamper with the electoral process
itself, seeking support for his own pet party—a party of
PPP and (especially) PML-N defectors known as the PML-Q (Qaid-e-Azam).
34. Again, it is important to keep in mind
that these efforts were not, as a general rule, unpopular. On
the contrary, the international community rallied to support Musharraf
in his attempt to introduce a new generation of educated political
elites, calling these efforts "a step in the direction of
modernity, political development, and progress." The negative
repercussions of this push for political "progress,"
however, were never very difficult to ascertain. In fact, Musharraf
simply created an environment in which most of the political landscape—indeed,
not one but both of the dominant political parties—came
together in a pattern of persistent opposition to Musharraf. And
of course, even apart from this pattern of secular opposition,
Musharraf created a situation in which the more explicitly religious
elements of the domestic political spectrum were significantly
expanded and emboldened.
35. Then, in 2001, Musharraf joined the
United States as an ally in America's "war on terror"
(a war on "terror" that was quickly reinterpreted, owing
to the universalising rhetoric mentioned above, as a war "against
Islam"). This move was, again, quite understandable, given
the military stakes involved. But, even more than Musharraf's
marginalization of the political mainstream, this move brought
the Pakistani public over to a pattern of enthusiastic support
for the opposition. In fact, as the "war on terror"
was diverted from Afghanistan to Iraq, the shape of this opposition
was transformed from a relatively generic pattern of political
opposition to one in which local expressions of political opposition
were articulated in a specifically religious form.
36. Already after 1999, and largely as a
result of the political "reforms" introduced by General
Pervez Musharraf, religious elites had begun to enjoy an unprecedented
level of "mainstream" political support in Pakistan.
But, after 2001, their stock began to soar.
37. If, in the move away from dictatorship
towards democracy, Musharraf were removed from the scene, both
of these factors—both of these support structures favouring
a unified expression of religious and political resistance—would
be dramatically transformed. In fact, the primary consequence
of such a move would lie in a general fragmentation of religious
and political opinion in Pakistan. Indeed, for those with an interest
in the implications of a shift in the direction of democracy for
the future of religious extremism and militancy, the question
is: How would this process of political withdrawal, on the part
of General Musharraf, alter the shape of religious and political
opinion? How would the ensuing process of political fragmentation
alter the shape of religious and political opposition?
38. The answer to this question has two
(closely related) parts, one concerning the politics of local
parties and one concerning the politics of the public at large.
39. First, it is important to note that,
in the wake of Musharraf's departure, existing levels of support
for religious alliances like the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal (MMA)
would decline precipitously. In fact, as other parties are released
from the constraints that excluded them under General Pervez Musharraf,
political opinion would shift to welcome them. In Islamabad, for
instance, the ruling PML-Q would lose its chief patron. And, as
it crumbles under the weight of its own internal factions, it
will be replaced by returning members of the PPP and the PML-N.
40. In the provinces, a similar shift will
occur. In Lahore, for instance, the PML-Q will be replaced, via
numerous internal defections, by the PPP and (especially) the
PML-N. In Karachi, the PML-Q will give way to an assembly ruled
by its current coalition partner, the Muttahida Qaumi Movement
(MQM) and the MQM's traditional nemesis, the PPP. (In all likelihood,
this will leave the MQM with sufficient resources to out-patronize
its leading competitor for the support of local traders—a
coalition of religious parties led by the non-sectarian Jama'at-e-Islami
and its Barelwi Sunni counterpart, the Sunni Tehreek). In the
NWFP, the ruling MMA coalition will be crushed under the weight
of bitter internal rivalries involving the Jama'at-e-Islami (JI),
the Jamiat-ul-Ulema-e-Islam (JUI-F), and their chief internal
critic, the JUI-S.
In other words, the PML-Q will fall, and its
religious allies, representing various groups within the MMA,
will fall right along with it. Needless to say, for those with
an interest in resisting the rise of religious opposition in Pakistan,
this pattern of fragmentation will amount to a very good thing.
41. At the same time, even apart from these
larger political trends unfolding at the level of coalition politics
and provincial governments, the existing religious-cum-political
landscape within the public at large will lose its coherence—a
coherence currently manifested in regular expressions of anti-Americanism;
indeed, a coherence that owes its very existence to Musharraf's
role as a key ally in the context of America's universalizing
"war on terror" (read: America's "war against Islam").
42. This pattern of fragmentation—this
religious "unravelling," if you will, at the level of
ordinary religious sentiments—does not amount to a good
thing. On the contrary, this pattern of fragmentation is deeply
worrisome for at least two reasons.
43. First, it is important to note that,
even if this process of religious unraveling releases the political
mainstream from its current bond with religious extremists and—or
militants, this process will not remove, or eliminate, extremism.
On the contrary, recent evidence suggests that
many of the jihadi organisations once supported by Musharraf—organisations
now increasingly neglected in the context of a wider strategic
shift away from clandestine activities in Kashmir towards clandestine
activities in Afghanistan (for example, organisations like Jaish-e-Mohammad,
now known as Jama'at or Tanzeem-ul-Furqan, and Lashkar-e-Taiba,
now known as Jama'at-ud-Dawa)—recent evidence suggests that
many of these organisations are likely to become even more aggressive
as they begin to feel themselves crowded out or threatened with
strategic (and financial) abandonment.
In fact, in their struggle to survive, recent
assessments suggest that organisations like Jaish-e-Mohammad and
Lashkar-e-Taiba—both implicated in the December 2001 attack
on India's Parliament—have attempted to enhance their ties
with international "Salafi" networks like al-Qaeda.
44. Second, and, perhaps, even more importantly,
it is critical to note that, as this process of religious unravelling
proceeds, it will, at least initially, appear to dilute Pakistan's
commitment to the prosecution of America's global war on "terror".
This is particularly true if local extremists become even more
aggressive as this process of unravelling unfolds—see paragraph
43 (above).
45. In any event, the consequences of this
shift away from dictatorship towards democracy will be decidedly
mixed, raising a number of questions about the extent to which
this shift in the direction of democracy amounts to "a good
thing" ... on the whole.
But in my view, these questions are extremely
short-sighted. Dictatorship is no longer an option in Pakistan.
Democracy is the only way to go.
(Please note: This is a surprising conclusion
for a scholar like myself, who has written extensively about the
challenges associated with democratic governance in Pakistan.
Indeed, this conclusion should not be read as an indication of
my support for democratic politics as a political panacea. No,
this conclusion should be read as an indication of the extent
to which the available evidence has led me to believe that dictatorship,
in Pakistan, has become profoundly counterproductive in the context
of ongoing efforts to address the scourge of religious extremism
and militancy.)
46. Like George Bush, General Pervez Musharraf
has become a lightning rod for opposition, and, today, his role
as a leader in the fight against extremism appears to lie "beyond
repair". Even the Taliban—an important client—has
recently decided to focus its crosshairs on Musharraf (November
2006), leaving Musharraf with almost nothing to offer any the
religious or political organizations based in Pakistan apart from
scattered favours for his own (deeply fragmented) PML-Q. In fact,
it is extremely difficult to imagine a situation in which Musharraf
might succeed in promoting a more robust and successful military
effort—for example, in FATA—while, at the same time,
opening up the political environment in an effort to cultivate
new forms of domestic political support. Nothing in the recent
history of the current regime suggests that either one of these
two options is even conceivable, let alone achievable. Democracy
is the only way forward.
47. To be sure, democratic politics in Pakistan
are fraught with uncertainties and anxieties, anxieties that could
be mitigated if two closely related efforts are allowed to proceed
in tandem. First and foremost, it is necessary to promote the
sort of rhetorical transformation described above—a transformation
that seeks to move the rhetoric underpinning America's global
war on "terror" away from "broad strokes"
toward a more nuanced assessment of contemporary political Islam.
Indeed, the first challenge lies in deconstructing the symbiotic
relationship between universalising and, it must be said, often
"racist" anti-terrorism rhetoric, on the one hand, and
the emergence of unusually coherent forms of religious-cum-political
opposition, on the other. Second, the political landscape must
be transformed as well, opening up new spaces for local expressions
of resistance, disagreement, and debate.
48. These two efforts—one rhetorical
and one more explicitly political—proceeding in tandem,
will not amount to a move away from the terms of political Islam.
No, they merely seek to promote a situation in which the terms
of political Islam are embedded within a larger field of domestic
political reform. (Indeed, the goal lies in creating an environment
that might allow one to identify the work of religious extremists
for what it is, namely, the work of religious extremists. No longer
"devoted sons" proceeding valiantly on behalf of the
public at large to "defend the faith against the forces of
unbelief," no, these extremists will become what they are,
namely, stand-alone militants peddling various forms of violence
for attention on the margins of diverse and otherwise "faithful"
communities.)
49. Of course, many will argue that this
two-pronged step in the direction of democracy will merely invite
religious parties like the JI or the JUI-F into power, providing
these parties with an opportunity to eliminate or abandon the
very democratic process that brought them into power in the first
place. This assessment is unlikely, however, for several reasons.
First, the popularity of these religious parties is closely tied
to their position as a unified religious force arrayed against
a universalising ("godless") enemy. The rhetorical transformation
described above will do much to undermine this existing basis
of "support". Second, their unity has been greatly enhanced
by the authoritarian restrictions imposed by the current government.
In other words, an effort to open up the political landscape will
introduce a process of fragmentation that, I believe, will make
it extremely difficult for local religious parties to translate
their existing unity into a coherent elected government. (To be
sure, this process of fragmentation will not eliminate the threat
of extremism, but it could allay existing concerns about the emergence
of an "elected" theocracy.) Finally, this new rhetorical
and political environment will open up new spaces for new religious
(and political) ideas—in effect, a new generation of ideas
regarding what might be called "the negotiated space of a
domesticated political Islam" in Pakistan.
CONCLUSION
50. Increasingly, strategies that seek new
ways to engage the terms of "political Islam" are framed
by an atmosphere of bitter military experience, not only in Waziristan,
but also in Afghanistan and Iraq. They are also framed by a deeper
understanding of religion as a persistent political force, not
only in South Asia, but around the world.
51. Acknowledging that the terms of political
Islam are here to stay, however, does not amount to a policy of
political "support" for religious groups like the Taliban.
On the contrary, efforts to engage the terms of political Islam
amount to an approach that seeks to frame the terms of one's opposition
to groups like the Taliban as something other than a zero-sum
(military) game: victory or defeat. In fact, engaging the terms
of political Islam implies an effort to "engage" at
the level of political rhetoric, disagreement, and debate. As
the Fourth Report of the Foreign Affairs Committee (2005-06) pointed
out, much more needs to be done "to communicate effectively
with the ... Islamic world in order to bridge the gulf of mistrust
that feeds into international terrorism" (3). This advice
is certainly well-placed. But in my view, efforts to act on this
advice will involve two areas of engagement that have, so far,
received relatively little attention.
52. Even apart from ongoing efforts to promote
the terms of democracy in Pakistan (above), there is much that
can be done, even within the UK. In fact, there are two areas
of engagement that I would like to discuss, and both speak to
the question of "rhetorical transformation" addressed
above. The first area of engagement concerns British media. The
second concerns British higher education.
53. Typically, we assume that these two
areas will be harnessed to promote a "secular" point
of view. This is unfortunate. In fact, given all that I have said
so far, it may be helpful to consider an approach that proactively
seeks to re-capture some of the rhetorical space that has been
lost during the last five years (2001-06)—a proactive effort,
for example, via the BBC, to represent Islam as an admirable and
illustrious religious tradition that (a) respects the rights of
the individual (over and above those of specific local tribes,
for instance), (b) appreciates the value of diversity (not only
among different religious and sectarian groups but also among
the individuals located within each group), (c) supports the exchange
of different, even competing, views (including different or competing
views about Islam), and (d) protects and promotes the underlying
spirit of modern human rights.
54. During the last five years, America's
war on "terror" has come to be perceived as a war "against
Islam". Efforts to reverse existing trends must continue
to challenge this view head-on.
55. Fortunately, British broadcasters and
British institutions of higher education are in an excellent position
to embrace this challenge, moving away from an approach that positions
the terms of democracy against Islam in favour of an approach
that seeks to locate the terms of democracy even within the specific
terms, and traditions, of Islam. To illustrate how this might
be achieved, consider the following proposals:
British Media
(a) Special programming highlighting specific
themes within Islamic history and practice, for example: (a) zakat
as a form of private welfare provision (both in theory and in
practice), (b) the veil as an expression of modesty combined with
an assessment of the question of modesty more generally (both
in theory and, given countervailing patterns of ostentation throughout
the Muslim world, also in practice), (c) variations on the theme
of salat/namaz/prayer, (d) an Islamic history of mathematics,
(e) a programme devoted to expressions of "hospitality"
in the Middle East, North Africa, Central Asia, and so on, and
(f) a series devoted to Ramadan, focusing on the Qur'an, the fast
(roza), and Eid.
(b) Special programming designed to bring
different sectarian perspectives into dialogue, not in an effort
to force agreement or promote "synthesis" (for example,
as an expression of the one "true" Islam), but rather
to cultivate an appreciation for discussion, disagreement, and
debate.
British Media and British Higher Education: Joint
Initiatives
(a) The English-language literature regarding
Islam and the Muslim world is enormous. Some effort could be made
to sponsor the translation of certain parts of this literature
into local languages: Arabic, Urdu, Farsi, Bengali, Bhasa Indonesian,
and so on.
(b) This effort could be combined with efforts
to bring the authors of this academic work, as well as their translators,
before the public—for example, in the context of radio and
television programmes (BBC World) devoted a discussion of their
research.
British Higher Education
(a) Scholarship funds for British scholars
with an interest in Islam and the Muslim world. (Note: These funds
should take the recent ESRC "Religion and Society" initiative
as a model. They should reject the model associated with the initiative
entitled "Countering Radicalisation".)
(b) Scholarship funds for British scholars
to support long-term teaching appointments in the Muslim world
(eg one to two years).
(c) Scholarship funds for Muslim women who
are not already citizens of the UK to study in UK institutions.
(Note: These funds should target women from non-elite backgrounds.
In other words, they should include provisions to discourage applications
from local elites. For example, in Pakistan, the application form
could bar applicants from secondary schools and/or universities
with fees exceeding Rs. 150,000 or 200,000/year.)
(d) Sponsorship funds for conferences on
subjects like "Higher Education and the Humanities"
to be convened in places like Kuala Lumpur, Istanbul, or Tripoli,
and, perhaps, subjects like "New Notions of Pluralism"
in Lahore, Karachi, Delhi, Calcutta, and Dhaka.
56. Today, we are confronted with two approaches
to the question of religious extremism and militancy in Pakistan,
and it pays to understand the dynamics associated with each of
them. The first approach, associated with the universalising rhetoric
of America's "war on terror", received a great deal
of attention in the first part of this paper. But, as I have tried
to point out, there is another (competing) view. This view is
more discriminating—in many cases, attempting to distinguish
one layer of religious extremism from the next. This is an important
perspective, particularly insofar as it allows us to ascertain
a wider range of policy options even within the specific terms
of contemporary "political Islam". However, this approach
is not without its drawbacks.
57. These drawbacks begin to emerge whenever
this effort to engage the terms of political Islam, as opposed
to rejecting these terms out of hand, are believed to leave too
much room for intolerant religious groups like the Taliban, the
Jamiat-ul-Ulema-e-Islam (Sami-ul-Haq), the Jamiat-ul-Ulema-e-Islam
(Fazlur Rahman), or the Jama'at-e-Islami. Indeed, efforts to accommodate
the language of political Islam are often believed to represent
a pattern of appeasement for intolerance. And of course, efforts
to appease the Taliban, in particular, strike many policy makers
in Iran and India, not to mention the US and the UK, as deeply
problematic.
58. The challenge, if you will, does not
involve an effort to eliminate the terms of political Islam. Nor
does it involve an effort to endorse them. No, the challenge lies
in coming up with new ways to engage the terms of political Islam
... critically. Efforts to eliminate the Taliban, for instance,
will be interpreted, almost invariably, as an assault on Islam.
Efforts to endorse the Taliban (unconditionally) will betray the
cause of democracy. Efforts to engage them, on the other hand,
will create new opportunities for criticism, disagreement, and
debate even within the specific terms of Islam.
59. Pakistan—and, by extension, India
and the rest of South Asia—stands at a fork in the road.
But the fork it confronts is a three-pronged fork, and, in this
context, much can be done to support the middle path. There will,
of course, be critics on both sides. But these critics are merely
poised to push Pakistan in directions fraught with even greater
dangers. Those who seek to eliminate the terms of political Islam
(as a whole) fail to appreciate the military implications of their
ideas. Those who seek to endorse the terms of political Islam
(unconditionally) simply fail to appreciate the significance of
religious and sectarian difference, the value of religious freedom,
and the fundamental importance of religious (and political) debate.
60. The road to peace and prosperity in
India passes through Islamabad, and a return to democratic politics
in Pakistan will do much to ensure that this road does not veer
too far in the direction of either extreme—those outer "forks
in the road". Even beyond this return to democracy, however,
there is much that scholars, the media, and government in the
UK can do to promote "the middle path". In this paper,
I have simply tried to illuminate some of the dynamics associated
with each path: outright elimination, endorsement, and engagement.
The best path, I would argue, is "the middle path".
Dr Matthew Nelson
School of Oriental and African Studies
10 November 2006
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