President Pervez Musharraf and Prime Minister Vajpayee go into their summit with the expectations of a breakthrough considerably scaled down. The media too seems to have lost their enthusiasm for superlatives.

The widespread pessimism stems from the impression that both the leaders are marching into the summit in battle mode, not talk mode. Yesterday, just a few hours before the summit was to begin, it was not clear if the two sides had told each other what they were going to talk about. However, they were telling the world, as publicly as possible, what they were not going to talk about: nothing but Kashmir, said one; anything but Kashmir, said the other. Of course, it was not put so bluntly. But, minus the diplomatic hemmings-and-hawings, that was what all the rhetoric boiled down to.

But then, in fairness to the two leaders and their governments, they cannot do any better. Their diplomatic effort is in the best tradition of Clausewitz: pursuit of war by other means. It is not their choice. They are not in a position to pursue peace because neither of them can afford to pay the price that peace demands. Musharraf was candid about it when he admitted to the media that he could not remain leader of his country if he accepted India’s continued control of Kashmir. “Who in Pakistan could ever accept this?” he asked. Vajpayee, in turn, was firm that Kashmir would remain “the core” of India’s nationhood. There was no need for him to ask, “Who in India could ever accept anything else?” Nobody would.

The fact is that they have no elbowroom. What both the leaders have to contend with is not each other, but history and the baggage of assumptions and prejudices it has left in the minds of the people. The dispute over Kashmir is as old as India and Pakistan. In all the years since the two nations were born in blood, hate for each other has defined their nationhood. Conceding the other’s demand, no matter how just, has been seen by both as defeat.

The tragedy of the subcontinent is that those who were big enough to break out, and also take their nations and peoples out, of the prison of hate did not do so. It could have been done by the giants who led the national movements in both the countries. Their patriotism was beyond question. If they had taken a decision on the issue, no matter what, they could have carried their peoples with them. And unlike Musharraf and Vajpayee, who have no shared memory other than that of Kargil, those leaders were comrades in arms in the struggle for freedom whose shared memories were of abiding friendship and personal equation. Those who came later were not big enough to fit into their shoes. They needed Kashmir as the excuse for their failure to give their peoples food, shelter, education or development. In this con trick, they had enthusiastic partners in the obscurantist elements who had been sidelined by the national movements. Using Kashmir as their battle standard, they have gained power in both the countries. They have now claimed for themselves — and have been conceded — the sole right to define the agenda of their nations.

Against this background, it will be no surprise if the summit fails to rewrite history. But, even then, it should not be termed a failure. The very fact that the leaders of India and Pakistan are sitting down to talk is a great stride forward.