A wild frontier
Sep 18th 2008 | LAKKI MARWAT, MAIDAN AND PESHAWAR
From The Economist print edition
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It will take more than American missiles to bring order to Pakistan’s north-western border region
AMERICA and Pakistan both deny it; but it appears that on September 15th they fought a short war. America started it. Local reports suggest that, under cover of darkness, two helicopter-loads of its soldiers crossed on foot from Afghanistan into the Pakistani tribal area—and terrorist haven—of South Waziristan. This followed an American policy, allegedly authorised by President George Bush in July, of launching raids into Pakistan without its government’s approval. But, on this occasion, Pakistani border troops responded as to the act of aggression that it constituted: shooting over the heads of the advancing Americans, forcing them back.
Pakistan has, since 2001, been a vital American ally, which makes American policy towards it confused. So, for related reasons, is Pakistan’s towards its own north-west tribal areas; and the ramifications could hardly be greater. A ruggedly inaccessible region, the tribal areas form a hinge between Pakistan and Afghanistan. By manipulating the sentiments of the 3.5m Pushtun tribesfolk who live there, past rulers, including British colonial administrators and Pakistani dictators, have sought to influence events in Afghanistan, where Pushtuns also predominate. In this way, the Soviet army was driven from Afghanistan in 1989—by American-armed mujahideen. But now, in a sadly predictable repetition, it is America and its allies that attract the tribesmen’s wrath.
North-west Pakistan, and the seven, semi-autonomous tribal “agencies” in particular, has emerged as the main refuge and supply-route for Taliban insurgents on both sides of the border. The leaders of al-Qaeda, displaced from Afghanistan, are also there. And so are other stray Islamists, including Pakistani jihadist groups trained by the army to fight in Indian-held Kashmir, and lately discouraged from doing so.
Most of these fighters are probably drawn to the region to kill NATO troops and their local allies in Afghanistan. Indeed this is a big reason why the reconstruction effort there may be failing. Some 1,500 civilians have been killed in Afghanistan this year—roughly half of them by Western troops. In a bleak assessment of the progress of the war, Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of America’s joint chiefs of staff, this month suggested that “time is running out” to turn things around.
Hence Mr Bush’s new policy. Hitherto, America had launched just a few missile attacks on suspected al-Qaeda targets in north-west Pakistan, in consultation with the government; three were reported in 2007. Meanwhile, since soon after America invaded Afghanistan in 2001, it has paid the Pakistani army to wage a counter-insurgency campaign in the tribal areas. To sustain 120,000 Pakistani troops in the field, at the latest count, including a 60,000-strong locally-raised frontier corps, America has given some $12 billion.
It has not got value for money. The border remains a militant thoroughfare. And in Pakistan, Taliban-style militancy has spread deep into the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP) and beyond. In the past year some 1,500 Pakistanis have been killed by terrorism and insurgency, mostly in or emanating from the north-west. On September 6th, as an electoral college chose Asif Zardari as Pakistan’s president, a suicide-bomber drove into a police check-post in Peshawar, NWFP’s capital, killing 37. A few days earlier bearded gunmen ambushed an American diplomat in the city, spraying her car with bullets.
No wonder Mr Zardari, Pakistan’s first civilian leader in nine years, says the Taliban have the “upper hand” in Pakistan. Mr Bush seems to agree. By ordering unilateral American action, he presumably hoped to goad the Pakistani army to do better, and also to kill a few al-Qaeda types, including Osama bin Laden, the most famous of all supposed frontier tourists, before his presidency ends in January.
Mr Bush’s new aggression was first unveiled on September 3rd with an American airborne assault on the village of Jala Khel, in South Waziristan, which, American officials claimed, killed a score of al-Qaeda militants. The army and journalists in Pakistan said the victims were civilians. The army chief, General Ashfaq Kayani—hand-picked and American-approved successor in that job of America’s former ally, Pervez Musharraf—denounced the attack and vowed to defend Pakistan’s territory “at all cost”, and an army spokesman said American invaders would be shot. Mr Zardari’s government also vowed to defend Pakistan’s borders. It had little choice: one recent poll showed that four-fifths of Pakistanis oppose America’s striking al-Qaeda within their territory.
But neither Mr Zardari’s government nor Mr Bush’s can afford an out-and-out rift. Visiting Islamabad this week, Admiral Mullen struck a more conciliatory note. Both sides talked up the prospects for co-operation. But Pakistan’s foreign minister said his government had not been forewarned of an attack by an American drone in South Waziristan on September 17th that killed some militants.
Alas, one reason why Pakistan has failed to bring order to its side of the frontier does seem to be its reluctance to abandon its jihadist proxies. Otherwise, it is hard to explain why Pakistan has captured more fugitive leaders of al-Qaeda than of the Taliban, its former clients. To outsiders, this policy looks contradictory at a time when the Pakistani army is fighting a war against the Taliban and its affiliates, in which over 1,500 soldiers have been killed. But the army’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency, masters of strategic doublethink, might call it “selective”—a policy of squashing the militants at home, but still employing them abroad.
Sep 18th 2008 | LAKKI MARWAT, MAIDAN AND PESHAWAR
From The Economist print edition
Article Link
More on link
It will take more than American missiles to bring order to Pakistan’s north-western border region
AMERICA and Pakistan both deny it; but it appears that on September 15th they fought a short war. America started it. Local reports suggest that, under cover of darkness, two helicopter-loads of its soldiers crossed on foot from Afghanistan into the Pakistani tribal area—and terrorist haven—of South Waziristan. This followed an American policy, allegedly authorised by President George Bush in July, of launching raids into Pakistan without its government’s approval. But, on this occasion, Pakistani border troops responded as to the act of aggression that it constituted: shooting over the heads of the advancing Americans, forcing them back.
Pakistan has, since 2001, been a vital American ally, which makes American policy towards it confused. So, for related reasons, is Pakistan’s towards its own north-west tribal areas; and the ramifications could hardly be greater. A ruggedly inaccessible region, the tribal areas form a hinge between Pakistan and Afghanistan. By manipulating the sentiments of the 3.5m Pushtun tribesfolk who live there, past rulers, including British colonial administrators and Pakistani dictators, have sought to influence events in Afghanistan, where Pushtuns also predominate. In this way, the Soviet army was driven from Afghanistan in 1989—by American-armed mujahideen. But now, in a sadly predictable repetition, it is America and its allies that attract the tribesmen’s wrath.
North-west Pakistan, and the seven, semi-autonomous tribal “agencies” in particular, has emerged as the main refuge and supply-route for Taliban insurgents on both sides of the border. The leaders of al-Qaeda, displaced from Afghanistan, are also there. And so are other stray Islamists, including Pakistani jihadist groups trained by the army to fight in Indian-held Kashmir, and lately discouraged from doing so.
Most of these fighters are probably drawn to the region to kill NATO troops and their local allies in Afghanistan. Indeed this is a big reason why the reconstruction effort there may be failing. Some 1,500 civilians have been killed in Afghanistan this year—roughly half of them by Western troops. In a bleak assessment of the progress of the war, Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of America’s joint chiefs of staff, this month suggested that “time is running out” to turn things around.
Hence Mr Bush’s new policy. Hitherto, America had launched just a few missile attacks on suspected al-Qaeda targets in north-west Pakistan, in consultation with the government; three were reported in 2007. Meanwhile, since soon after America invaded Afghanistan in 2001, it has paid the Pakistani army to wage a counter-insurgency campaign in the tribal areas. To sustain 120,000 Pakistani troops in the field, at the latest count, including a 60,000-strong locally-raised frontier corps, America has given some $12 billion.
It has not got value for money. The border remains a militant thoroughfare. And in Pakistan, Taliban-style militancy has spread deep into the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP) and beyond. In the past year some 1,500 Pakistanis have been killed by terrorism and insurgency, mostly in or emanating from the north-west. On September 6th, as an electoral college chose Asif Zardari as Pakistan’s president, a suicide-bomber drove into a police check-post in Peshawar, NWFP’s capital, killing 37. A few days earlier bearded gunmen ambushed an American diplomat in the city, spraying her car with bullets.
No wonder Mr Zardari, Pakistan’s first civilian leader in nine years, says the Taliban have the “upper hand” in Pakistan. Mr Bush seems to agree. By ordering unilateral American action, he presumably hoped to goad the Pakistani army to do better, and also to kill a few al-Qaeda types, including Osama bin Laden, the most famous of all supposed frontier tourists, before his presidency ends in January.
Mr Bush’s new aggression was first unveiled on September 3rd with an American airborne assault on the village of Jala Khel, in South Waziristan, which, American officials claimed, killed a score of al-Qaeda militants. The army and journalists in Pakistan said the victims were civilians. The army chief, General Ashfaq Kayani—hand-picked and American-approved successor in that job of America’s former ally, Pervez Musharraf—denounced the attack and vowed to defend Pakistan’s territory “at all cost”, and an army spokesman said American invaders would be shot. Mr Zardari’s government also vowed to defend Pakistan’s borders. It had little choice: one recent poll showed that four-fifths of Pakistanis oppose America’s striking al-Qaeda within their territory.
But neither Mr Zardari’s government nor Mr Bush’s can afford an out-and-out rift. Visiting Islamabad this week, Admiral Mullen struck a more conciliatory note. Both sides talked up the prospects for co-operation. But Pakistan’s foreign minister said his government had not been forewarned of an attack by an American drone in South Waziristan on September 17th that killed some militants.
Alas, one reason why Pakistan has failed to bring order to its side of the frontier does seem to be its reluctance to abandon its jihadist proxies. Otherwise, it is hard to explain why Pakistan has captured more fugitive leaders of al-Qaeda than of the Taliban, its former clients. To outsiders, this policy looks contradictory at a time when the Pakistani army is fighting a war against the Taliban and its affiliates, in which over 1,500 soldiers have been killed. But the army’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency, masters of strategic doublethink, might call it “selective”—a policy of squashing the militants at home, but still employing them abroad.
