For the Pakistani army, the agreement is necessary. Past operations in Waziristan have proven that the region is vastly more difficult to tame than an area like Swat, where Taliban-aligned militants were relatively easily dislodged and scattered. In Waziristan, even if Pakistan had committed substantially more troops, pursuing an objective to completely wipe out the Taliban would be unrealistic, leading to a long and bloody battle with the potential to demoralize the Pakistani army and further destabilize a shaky government in Islamabad.
Instead, Pakistan appears to be taking the path of least resistance and maximum strategic advantage. The Taliban continue to be viewed as an asset in Afghanistan, where Pakistani interests are inextricably woven with the movement’s survival in the face of increasing Indian influence in Kabul.
But for ISAF troops in Afghanistan, including Canadians based in Kandahar, the possibility of new fighters arriving from Pakistan represents a clear danger. Interestingly, in what appears to be an attempt to divert attention from Pakistan’s duplicity, Ashfaq Parvez Kayani, the country’s chief of army staff, has accused ISAF forces in Afghanistan of abandoning border posts in the region, saying that could allow Afghan Taliban to flood in to Pakistan to support their brethren. (That allegation, of course, undermines Abbas’s claim that the Pakistani military has cut off all escape routes out of the country—presumably those routes also serve as entry points into Pakistan, and if the military were indeed in control of them they could also keep out incoming militants.) According to an ISAF spokesman in Afghanistan, the international coalition does not man border posts; that is left to the Afghan border police. In response to Kayani’s allegation, the spokesman adds: “We would only comment on that if there were substance to it.”
In fact, the suggestion borders on the surreal: Pakistani authorities are now implying that the U.S.-backed coalition is helping the fundamentalist Taliban destabilize Pakistan. But it is to a degree a sign of how dysfunctional the relationship between Pakistan and the West has become. For months, ties have been eroding as the U.S. administration has tightened the screws on aid money for Pakistan, and continued to accuse its security services, singling out the Inter-Services Intelligence spy agency, of maintaining links with militant groups.
Meanwhile, the public mood in Pakistan is approaching near panic levels. Suicide attacks are an almost daily occurrence, with twin bombings in Islamabad on Tuesday killing seven, including the two suicide bombers. There is of course no guarantee that Pakistan’s strategy in Waziristan will put an end to the violence. Violent extremists remain entrenched in Punjab and in the southern port city of Karachi. Another group has emerged on the southwestern border with Iran—the Sunni extremist group Jundallah, meaning “the Soldiers of God.” It has been blamed for an Oct. 18 suicide attack on Iranian Revolutionary Guards in the Iranian border city of Pishin that killed 60 people. In response, Iran, which was to deliver some $300 million worth of aid to Pakistan, has threatened to end that flow, even as the official news agency called on Iranian security forces “to seriously deal with Pakistan once and for all.”
The developments have left many Pakistanis wondering how much more their country can take. Still, very few are willing to blame the army, long considered the only barrier standing in the way of the nation’s total collapse. Some, however, are starting to realize that the military must shoulder some of the blame for Pakistan’s current crisis. “If they don’t stop playing these games, then there will be grave consequences,” says Aqil Shah, a senior member of the provincial government in the country’s northwest. “It will mean the end of the nation. The time for games is over.”
Pages: 1 2
