NEW DELHI, 18 August — A thespian understands the difference between theater and theatrics. The amateur is so called precisely because he keeps stepping on the thin line between the two. Politicians have to be adept at the use of drama, since they play to such large audiences. Their tragedies, comedies and farce have life-and-death consequences. Their hubris can affect a generation’s peace of mind.
On a good day theater comes naturally to Farooq Abdullah. He can even be a good orator. But when he slips into theatrics, you can see his persona crumple into farce.
Every Aug. 15 he raises the national flag in a stadium at Srinagar. His commitment to the tricolor in a Valley of many colors is genuine. After some early turbulence in the Sixties, when he could sound, shall we say, less than patriotic, he veered around to the view that the fortunes of the Abdullah family were best married to Indian nationalism. In 1975 his father, Sheikh Abdullah, signed an accord with Indira Gandhi that brought him back to power in Srinagar after 22 years of prison, trial and some political experiment.
Remarkably, the personal friendship between Jawaharlal Nehru and Sheikh Abdullah never waned despite the fact that Nehru was compelled to dismiss the Sheikh in 1953 on suspicion that he was using the authority of his office to chip away at Kashmir’s accession to the Indian Union.
For five decades now the politics of the Kashmir Valley has been played out in a space confined by doubt on the one side and uncertain aspiration on the other. There can be no transparency in such a clouded environment. Without transparency there cannot be trust. Distrust eats up the elasticity of freedom. Delhi preferred "safe" leaders to popular ones, until the restoration of Sheikh Abdullah. The Sheikh was always popular. By 1975 he was declared safe as well.
Unfortunately the burden of this dilemma transferred to the next generation. The Sheikh passed away in 1982. Dynasty is as easily taken for granted by the Abdullahs as it is by the Nehru-Gandhis. Farooq Abdullah inherited the office, and sought to establish his equation with the Kashmiris by being more vocal about their demands than his father had been. Mrs. Indira Gandhi was prime minister, and among her advisers was now her scheming relative Arun Nehru.
To cut a long and pretty sordid story short, Farooq was deceived and removed; his MLAs were bribed, the National Conference was split. Indian democracy has some unhappy chapters. This is one of the darkest.
Generations changed in Delhi as well. Rajiv Gandhi was conscious that Farooq had been wronged, and was determined to correct it. But the well-intentioned option chosen was horribly wrong. Farooq and Rajiv fashioned an alliance for the elections of 1987.
In a single moment Farooq was transformed from the voice of Kashmir to yet another stooge of Delhi. By coming together, the National Conference and the Congress party vacated space for an opposition that consolidated quickly under the banner of the Muslim United Front.
On the eve of voting, Farooq and Rajiv realized that they could lose. They ensured victory by selective rigging. Young men who protested were thrown into political prisons. When they were eventually released they had lost all faith in Indian democracy. This was the moment Pakistan had been waiting for. Within a year of this rigged election, militancy entered the Valley. The Kashmiri picked up a Pakistani gun, in the hope of getting his "Azaadi."
The stadium in which Farooq raised the national flag this week had what can only be described as a television audience. There were people packed in the one spot on which the cameras concentrated. The rest of the stadium was empty apart from a scattering of highly bored policemen. When Farooq exhorted everyone to say "Jai Hind" after him, he was actually addressing only a television camera. There was no one in front of him. Nothing could be more indicative of the distance between him and the people. There are no permanent losers in a democracy; one election’s hero is the next election’s valet. But for the moment, the Abdullahs have lost it.
A handful of explosive reasons has placed Kashmir at the doorsteps of opportunity. Sept. 11 is only one of them, although a significant one. The Americans can no longer afford to be disengaged, even if they are not particularly keen on being mediators. (One report suggests that Colin Powell is fed up with both India and Pakistan. Who can blame him?) Washington knows that the Indo-Pak conflict is the new breeding ground for terrorists. It wants a resolution of this conflict through the sensible process of dialogue.
Delhi has grasped the potential of this change. Deputy Prime Minister L.K. Advani’s speech on Kashmir in Parliament, and Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee’s address to his nation from the Red Fort on Aug. 15 were unique examples of candor. We have not had such plain speaking from Delhi for a long time, not since the days of Nehru.
Delhi’s readiness to address India’s most delicate and complex problem is not foolhardy, or even merely an exercise in noble intentions. (In politics, good intentions are very rarely good enough.) It is built on two significant new realities. The first, if you will pardon an oxymoron, is a sea-change in the mountains. After 15 years of rhetoric and militancy, there is a sudden realization that the gun is not going to provide the answer.
No one now believes that India is going to walk away from the Valley. No one believes either that Pakistan has the military capability of removing the Indian Army from the Valley. It is also clear that any war between India and Pakistan will definitely end the Kashmir problem because it will end Kashmir itself. No Kashmir, no problem!
Second, that distant dream, being nourished from the early Fifties, that the Americans would somehow deliver an independent Kashmir is also dead. Till Sept. 11 America used an eye patch approach to terrorism, seeing it where it wanted, and using a blind eye when it was convenient.
Now both eyes are open. Then there is Pakistan. Kashmiris hear President Pervez Musharraf’s vehement reiteration of support for "Kashmir’s liberation". They also hear his repeated resolve to eliminate terrorists and militancy from Pakistan. The disconnect registers. If Pakistan is forced to target the militants, the supply lines will wither.
Reality creates opportunity, but opportunity has to be handled with dexterous care if it is going to be productive. The first, and non-negotiable, requirement is that the future of Kashmir must be in the hands of the people, speaking through genuine representatives. The days of rigging and pseudo-victories in elections where no one votes are over, hopefully never to return. The most heartening factor of the emerging scenario is Delhi’s commitment to completely honest elections.
The confidence of the electorate is essential if we are to reach such a goal. This confidence can be built quickly, but someone from the Valley has to start doing so. Delhi’s assurance is the foundation, but the edifice remains to be constructed. Farooq cannot build this confidence, because he is in power and therefore seen as a vested interest.
The leaders who can build this confidence need time, which they must be given. They need a gesture of change, which president’s rule can provide. They need the commitment of a dialogue, which has already been given.
The Abdullahs are synonymous with the modern history of Kashmir. They helped create the past of their land. The time has come for them to step down, so that they can join the future.
