IT is fairly remarkable that Imran Khan did not instantly reject the idea of representing the Pakistani Taleban in negotiations with the government. He hemmed and hawed for a while, perhaps mulling over the consequences of reinforcing the “Taleban Khan” nomenclature adopted by his growing army of detractors.
He eventually demurred, with one of the least desirable components of his Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), Shireen Mazari, declaring that the party’s core committee appreciated the Taleban’s offer but would not accept it, given one of the party’s stalwarts was already on the government team designated to pursue the negotiations.
Well, pardon my skepticism, but that’s not particularly reassuring. Which side will the said PTI representative, Rustam Shah Mohmand, really be on?
Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif reinvigorated the idea of talks after a series of abhorrent attacks by the Taleban, possibly in lieu of mounting an overdue military offensive against the proponents of indiscriminate violence in northern Waziristan.
The quest for peace is undoubtedly a desirable objective. If it could be achieved via talks, that would be ideal. The problem with talks with the Taleban is the likelihood that they won’t lead anywhere, barring Islamabad’s capitulation — an undesirable outcome by any standards.
One of the few party leaders to have taken a stand against this prospect is the Pakistan People’s Party’s (PPP’s) young patron-in-chief, Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, whose interviews with the BBC’s Lyse Doucet and The Guardian’s Jon Boone reflect an arguably refreshing approach to Pakistan’s primary dilemma.
Bilawal has been in the news, though, courtesy of the Sindh Festival he is sponsoring, which got under way at the start of the month in Mohenjo Daro, one of the earliest remnants of Indian civilization, amid concerns that the historic site would be compromised by the demands of show business.
It must be conceded, though, that by drawing attention to the ruins, the festival has reinvigorated the campaign for their preservation.
Less enchantingly, Bilawal has drawn attention to Sindh as “Bab-ul-Islam,” the gateway of Islam, implicitly endorsing a similarly youthful Mohammed bin Qasim’s seventh-century foray into the subcontinent.
Bilawal obviously has a lot to learn. The innovative Sindh Festival, whatever its cultural value, does not adequately represent a political alternative to a status quo that is essentially a continuation of what his much-pilloried dad, advertently or otherwise, left in place. Not surprisingly, Bilawal prefers to refer to his mother’s martyrdom. Don’t, however, expect dilation on the murky circumstances under which she returned to Pakistan in 2007 to be forthcoming.
Another party, which thrives in the vicinity of the PPP’s stronghold, has also latched on to an anti-Taleban narrative, somewhat to its credit, but the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) has lately been on the defensive, following a report by the BBC’s Owen Bennett-Jones about the British investigation into the 2010 assassination in London of Imran Farooq, a former party stalwart who evidently developed doubts about Altaf Hussain’s leadership-in-exile.
Farooq was stabbed to death, and Bennett-Jones says that the metropolitan police, having interviewed more than 4,000 people, are inclined to suspect that the culprits were a pair of ostensible students who escaped through Heathrow just hours after the fatal attack. They apparently returned to Pakistan via Sri Lanka and were immediately taken into custody. British efforts to interrogate them have failed to elicit a favorable response from Islamabad.
Investigations into money laundering, meanwhile, have led to the suspension of several MQM bank accounts. In a dramatic response to the BBC report, MQM officials in Pakistan denied any link with the purported culprits — even though the BBC appears not to have alleged any such connection. They also suggested that the cash found in Hussain’s premises was related to his numismatic inclinations. Yeah, right.
Hussain went into exile pursued by a host of murder charges some two decades ago. He has since then periodically entertained his followers with rants via telephone and the British authorities have been lackadaisical in investigating allegations of incitement to violence. Even more disturbingly, it is unclear on exactly what basis he was granted political asylum in Britain. He has lately complained that Scotland Yard has made his life a misery. But methinks the alarmingly expansive MQM leader doth protest too much.
The MQM’s official description of Iftikhar Hussain, a nephew of Hussain’s who was taken into custody in connection with Imran Farooq’s murder and then released on bail, as “not a person who is really with himself mentally” may also apply to other members of the family.
The weakness of his rivals obviously plays into Nawaz Sharif’s clammy hands. But it also makes Pakistan’s future seem alarmingly grim. The prospect of a compromise with the Taleban cannot be written off. But what on earth would the consequences be?
January was reportedly the first drone-strike-free month in Pakistan’s northern territories in two years. There are those who stupidly endorse the US drone strikes as the least undesirable alternative in the event of Islamabad’s non-intervention. But where is the evidence that the targeted assassinations — quite apart from the confusion over the so-called collateral damage — have actually curtailed terrorism?
That is not to say, however, that doing nothing, or engaging in talks with idiots whom the Taleban can subsequently disown, suffices as a strategy. If Pakistan cannot contend with the terrorists, with a view to eliminating their breeding grounds, then it will have to face the consequences. And they are bound to be unpleasant, regardless of the American component.
