Article:
The Jammu-Kashmir issue.
In the tangled web of promises and failed talks which have been the hallmark of the dispute over the former princely state of Jammu and Kashmir, there is one constant: a steadfast belief by a section of the inhabitants that the pledge given to them in 1947, when India and Pakistan achieved independence from Britain, permitting them to choose their future political affiliation has not been honoured. Rather they believe that a decision was forced upon them. Firstly when the Maharaja, Hari Singh, acceded to India without consultation; secondly, when the plebiscite, promised by India and Pakistan, was never held. The demand for ‘azadi’ today reflects that belief.
Sixty-four years later, the state’s contested status has affected the lives of millions of people throughout South Asia, dominating Indo-Pakistani relations and making people, with millennia of shared culture and landspace, deadly enemies. Wars have been fought across the international border in 1948-49, 1965, 1971, and, across the ‘line of control’ dividing Indian and Pakistani-administered Kashmir, in Kargil in 1999. Both countries have acquired nuclear weapons, although the reality of a nuclear exchange would result in mutual self-destruction. The Siachen Glacier in northern Kashmir, occupied by opposing armies since 1984, remains the world’s highest warzone, causing unrecorded environmental damage and costing millions of rupees. Excessive military expenditure has meant that the rising populations of India and Pakistan have been starved of resources, with inadequate funds spent on health, education and poverty eradication.
Differing demands
One challenging characteristic of the Jammu-Kashmir issue is that the demands of the key protagonists differ so dramatically that there is little common ground as a basis for discussion. Successive Indian governments maintain that, because of the Maharaja’s accession, the state is an integral part of India; Pakistan insists that the status quo – with the state divided along the ‘line of control’ – is unacceptable and supports a ‘freedom’ struggle in the Indian-administered part of the state. Neither position takes into account the wishes of the inhabitants, whose aspirations also differ, depending on religious and regional preferences.
Firstly, there is the majority Muslim population, living in the Valley; linguistically they are Kashmiris, as are also the now displaced Pandits of Hindu faith; some Muslims initially wanted to join Pakistan, others did not, including the Muslim leader of the National Conference, Sheikh Abdullah, who believed that Kashmir’s future was best assured with India, as does the Sheikh’s son, former Chief Minister, Farooq, and grandson, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah. As Hindus, the Valley Kashmiri Pandits also prefer India, as does the majority Hindu population in Jammu, the Buddhists in Ladakh and the smaller groupings of Gujars and Bakherwals. Even the Shia Muslims of Kargil are unenthusiastic about joining Pakistan.
On the Pakistani side of the line of control, at partition the Mirs and Rajahs of Gilgit-Baltistan (formerly the Northern Areas), uniformly wanted to join Pakistan. The Balawaristan National Front now supports independence for Gilgit-Baltistan but not for the entire state. Those inhabiting the narrow strip of land, ‘Azad’ [free] Jammu and Kashmir (AJK, known in India as POK, Pakistan-occupied Kashmir), – politically called ‘Kashmiris’ but non-Kashmiri speakers -have generally accepted allegiance to Pakistan, although some talk of the region being reunited with the Valley as a smaller independent state.
The road to ‘azadi’
In contrast to those Kashmiri Muslims and Hindus who accept allegiance to India, a significant proportion in the Valley remain disaffected, whilst no longer seeing their future as part of Pakistan. Their struggle has been both militant (starting in earnest with the insurgency in 1989) and political. Their goal is also fractured, in terms of whether they are fighting for independence of the entire state or just the Valley. The difficulty of objective is compounded by the fact that, although the Maharaja might initially have contemplated independence in 1947, no provision in the partition plan was made for any princely state to become independent; when Prime Minister Nehru and Governor-General Jinnah agreed that a plebiscite should be held, the choice was between India or Pakistan. There was to be no ‘third option’. There was also no expectation that the state would be divided, as it effectively now is, since the proposal was for a unitary rather than a regional plebiscite to be held. This restricted choice was endorsed by two out of the three pertinent UN resolutions. Only the UN resolution of 13 August 1948 did not specify a choice between India and Pakistan.
As the Jammu-Kashmir issue has remained unresolved, the independence movement has gained momentum. ‘If not Kosovo, why not Kashmir?’ has been a potent rallying cry, since the United Nations recognized Kosovo’s declaration of independence in 2008. The referendum held in East Timor in 1999 also re- fuelled the demand for a referendum to be held in Kashmir, reflecting their belief that Kashmiris have been denied their ‘right of self-determination.’
Not surprisingly, whereas the movement to join Pakistan was fully supported by Pakistan, both overtly diplomatically and covertly militarily, the independence or ‘azadi’ movement does not have adherents in Pakistan any more than in India. The creation of an independent state of Jammu and Kashmir would result in both countries losing territory, vital for their strategic interests: Gilgit Baltistan provides Pakistan with access to China along the Karakoram Highway; Ladakh and its access along an already contested frontier with China is essential to India. The ‘azadi’ movement, muted in AJK, would not be supported by Pakistan. Apart from loss of prestige, Pakistan would fight to retain its control of AJK because of the Mangla Dam, storing water crucial for Pakistan’s survival. In the same way, India is fighting to retain control of the Kashmir Valley, not only for historic reasons, but because possession of Kashmir reinforces its status as an upper riparian state, controlling the flow of the Indus River tributaries.
The end game
As many of the key players have realized, the way forward has to be through genuine negotiation. The world – and Mumbai 2008 proved it – has become too dangerous for a dialogue of the deaf. It will not help the inhabitants of Jammu-Kashmir, traumatized during twenty years of conflict, to indulge in meaningless rhetoric.
To achieve closure, what has to be determined is how to satisfy those Kashmiris, mainly located in the Valley, heartland of the resistance, who are still demanding their ‘inalienable’ right of self-determination. How can their wishes be met, bearing in mind regional and political diversity and the right of others to express their views? Could just the Valley be independent? Or would guaranteed autonomy, with contact retained to the vital markets of India and access to Pakistan, meet the demand for azadi, provided the Indian Army was withdrawn, repressive laws repealed, and freedom of movement and expression assured? Mirwaiz Umar Farooq thinks not: ‘We totally reject autonomy as a solution. Autonomy is nothing new. Kashmiris had autonomy till 1953. We had our own president, prime minister, constitution and supreme court. Unfortunately, that was eroded by the government of India.’ In other words, trust has been broken. Attitudes have also hardened. What one generation might have accepted, the next might not.
Since India decided long ago what the end game was ( the status quo), there has been little latitude to discuss alternative scenarios. Although former President Musharraf embarked on a ‘peace process’, which moved away from Pakistan’s traditional demand for a plebiscite to be held, his insistence that formalizing the line of control into an international frontier was not an option still conflicted with Indian insistence that it was the only option.
In 2011, as even Indian commentators realise, the problem of Kashmir lies within. As the barometer or violence in the state rises and falls, Indian leaders must surely question the depth of Kashmiri alienation and ask themselves why successive generations have become disaffected. Since the demand to join Pakistan has been superseded by the demand for ‘azadi’, Pakistan’s role must now be that of a benevolent neighbour, trying to influence India to improve its human rights record in the Valley by demilitarizing a heavily fortified region, whilst recognizing that Pakistan itself is unlikely to make any territorial gains. In the next round of Indo-Pakistani talks, following those held between Pakistan’s new Foreign Minister Hina Khar and S.M. Krishna of India, they might start with a mutual admission that there is no question of all of the state becoming either part of India or part of Pakistan, as envisaged in 1947.