The Exodus

It is reported that over three million people of Malakand and Swat have been displaced and have sought refuge at safer places. They were forced to abandon their ancestral homes because the Taliban had broken the peace terms as signed between them and the government. The government was left with no option but to order the army to flush out the extremist elements from areas occupied by the Taliban. The army has performed a commendable job. It has forced the Taliban to vacate their strongholds and lay down their arms. Some political elements, especially JUI chief Maulana Fazlur Rehman, are now offering their services to talk to Taliban leaders for a truce.

The Taliban have already destroyed a truce and cannot be trusted to honour another truce. A truce at this juncture will provide breathing space to the Taliban to muster their militant strength and supplies of arms and ammo. In no time they will be ready to take on the army once again. The peace is imperative but not at the terms of the Taliban and at the cost of Pakistan’s sovereignty. The Taliban are insurgents and should be treated as such. If they want a truce, they should first disarm and surrender those leaders who are wanted by the government. If they fulfil these two conditions, only then talks could be held to establish peace.

Baitullah Mehsud after owning the recent suicide attack in Lahore has threatened more such bombings if the government does not stop the military operation in Swat and Buner. The nation, although worried, is not terrified any more. People are going through great hardships because of the numerous security checks in major cities. But they are accepting restrictions on their movements because they want to see the end of Taliban banditry once and for all.

The exodus of over three million people has posed a great challenge to the people and the government of Pakistan. There is no instance in history that such a large number of people have moved from one location to another within their own country. The international community as usual is very slow in its reaction. Except for the US and Turkey, which were quick to send cash and relief goods, other countries are taking their time. It appears that the bigger burden will fall on Pakistanis although most European countries admit that Pakistan’s war against terrorism will provide them with greater safety. The people of Pakistan have responded most generously by donating cash and goods. The bigger test will come when IDPs start returning home. That day is not far because the government has announced that Buner has been cleared of the Taliban and asked IDPs from Buner to return home.

With the return of IDPs the most difficult phase of rehabilitation and reconstruction will start. The houses, schools, hospitals and government buildings will have to be rebuilt. Infrastructure of roads and telecommunication will have to be revived. Pakistan is capable of bringing Swat, Buner and Malakand back to civilisation. 

The discovery of a large quantity of modern arms and ammo stored in tunnels clearly points out the fact that the Taliban had plans to capture the Swat, Buner and adjoining territories bit by bit and then make this captured territory the launching pad to make advances in other areas. The army after reoccupying Swat has now engaged the Taliban in Lower Dir and South Waziristan. In a few days these areas will also be cleared of the Taliban.

Long Way Home!

The full level of the human tragedy has neither been quantified nor understood due to the inability of the government officials, non-governmental organisations, aid workers and the media to reach out to all those recently displaced

Gradually, the scale of the humanitarian crisis caused by Pakistan’s largest displacement of people as a result of the huge military operations against Taliban militants in parts of the NWFP is becoming evident. But the full level of the human tragedy has neither been quantified nor understood due to the inability of the government officials, non-governmental organizations, aid workers and the media to reach out to all those recently displaced from Swat and rest of Malakand division and earlier from Bajaur and Mohmand tribal regions.

In fact, a fresh wave of the internally displaced persons (IDPs) from South Waziristan, Orakzai and Kurram tribal agencies is now heading for safer places in southern NWFP and beyond. Jet-fighters and gunship helicopters have been carrying out bombing raids in Orakzai Agency for some time now while long-range artillery guns were used recently to attack suspected militants’ hideouts of Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) head Baitullah Mahsud in the Mahsud tribal territory of South Waziristan. The new military campaign in these tribal areas has driven a large number of people out of their homes and villages and rendered them shelterless. No figures of these newly displaced persons are presently available as they haven’t been registered, but it would surely add to the number of IDPs in the province.

An unguarded statement by President Asif Ali Zardari in which he talked about starting military action in Waziristan also prompted households in South Waziristan’s Mahsud-inhabited areas to start migrating to other places. Though the President’s office subsequently denied the statement that was part of an interview granted to a British newspaper, the damage was done as so many families were displaced.

As Pakistan Army troops headed for Kurram Agency on May 28 in what appeared to be the start of a new military operation, there were reports of displacement from villages near the Pak-Afghan border and in lower Kurram valley largely inhabited by Sunnis. The troops could try and push the militants out of this area and reopen the Thall-Parachinar road that has been blocked for months and has brought suffering to the blockaded people inhabiting the upper Kurram valley. It was also possible that the deployment of Pakistani soldiers on this side of the Durand Line was part of a new, coordinated effort in partnership with the US-led Nato forces operating in Afghanistan and preparing to launch fresh anti-Taliban operations following the planned summer-time surge of US troops.

Prior to the launch of the military operations in Malakand region, the province was already burdened by almost 600,000 IDPs from Bajaur and Mohmand tribal areas. If that figure is added to the almost 2.4 million newly uprooted persons from Swat, Buner, Lower Dir and rest of Malakand division, the total number of IDPs has already shot up to three million. And it is being predicted that the figure could go up to 3.5 million or even more.

The magnitude of the problem could be better understood by comparing the number of our IDPs with the Afghan refugees who came to Pakistan after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in December 1979. The number of Afghan refugees at one time peaked to almost five million, which was an estimate as many people weren’t registered. However, the figure of Afghan refugees in Pakistan mostly averaged three million. And one must remember that the Afghans were displaced over a long period of war starting from 1978-79. The Afghan war saw different phases such as withdrawal of Soviet forces in February 1989, the Mujahideen takeover of Afghanistan in April 1992, the Taliban capture of power in September 1996 and the US invasion of the country in 2001. Apart from the endless fighting that has continued for three decades, Afghanistan was also confronted with natural calamities and man-made disasters that destroyed its economy and deeply affected the lives of its people.

In comparison, the Pakistani IDPs were uprooted in the course of a few weeks in the case of those from Malakand division and over a period of some months earlier from Bajaur and Mohmand agencies. Unlike the Afghan refugees who came from every where of the 34 provinces in Afghanistan, the displaced persons in Pakistan belong to one region only. The major reason for the record displacement in Pakistan is the use of heavy weapons by the Pakistani armed forces. Bombing by jet-fighters, including F-16s, and gunship helicopters in densely-populated areas in Swat, Buner, Lower Dir and Upper Dir was bound to frighten communities to abandon their homes to save their lives. Then there was the continuous use of heavy artillery that pounded long-range targets in far-off places. The military commanders must have figured out their best options while carrying out attacks against the militants in congested valleys of Swat, Buner and Dir, but questions must be asked whether such tactics are effective against a mobile force of Taliban guerillas familiar with the terrain. The fact that none of the top Taliban leaders and commanders has been killed until now could be cited as the shortcoming of these tactics and also the inadequacy of the intelligence agencies.

Certain mishaps in which civilians were hit by air strikes or by artillery shells also scared away villagers and forced them to migrate. One Swati family walking on foot that crossed the mountain pass to enter Dir, lost eight members in an attack by a military helicopter and then narrated its ordeal at a press conference in Pakistan.

The IDPs returning to Buner from Mardan and hoping to harvest their ripe wheat crop too got hit by a gunship helicopter and suffered casualties. This halted the repatriation of those IDPs who at any cost wanted to return to Buner, which has almost been cleared of militants by the military, to harvest their wheat crop. The government was keen for the Buner IDPs, and also those from Bajaur, to return home so that the relief camps could take in newly displaced persons in their place. Some IDPs from Bajaur belonging to its Mohmand area were sent back from camps in Peshawar and Nowshera but they could be uprooted again as the situation was still uncertain in their villages due to the recent threat by the government to restart military action there against the militants.

The government was certainly not prepared to receive so many IDPs. The ANP-PPP coalition government in the NWFP was expecting up to half a million IDPs and arrangements for even that small number of displaced people weren’t made when the first wave started reaching Mardan and Swabi, the two neighbouring districts that have accommodated most of the uprooted families. With more than 80 per cent of the IDPs staying outside the 10 new designated camps, the government was lucky that the burden of caring for the displaced people was being shared by generous host families who spared rooms, houses and hujras to accommodate the uprooted families. The 17 total camps, including seven old ones, took in only about 200,000 IDPs while the rest were accommodated by families mostly in Mardan and Swabi in keeping with the great Pakhtun tradition of hospitality. However, it is a moot point that for how long the local families would be able to host the IDPs.

The IDPs too are getting restless. Protests break out often at the relief distribution and registration points and the camps over delays and perceived injustices. Life in the camps lacking electricity due to the high summer temperatures is tough and many families left or are searching for houses where they could shift. Then there is the issue of the older IDPs from Bajaur and Mohmand agencies complaining about discrimination as they believe the displaced people from Malakand division were getting a better deal. The provincial government feels it is responsible for the Malakand region IDPs and not the ones from tribal areas such as Bajaur and Mohmand, which fall in FATA and are administered by the federal government through the Governor of NWFP. Allegations of corruption in distribution of relief goods are already being heard. The threatened ban on IDPs entering Sindh and the three province-wide strikes called by Sindhi nationalist parties and the MQM and Punjab’s reluctance to open camps for the displaced persons in the province have complicated matters, hurt the Pakhtuns and fuelled ethnic sentiment.

If the military operations are prolonged, the leadership of Taliban militants isn’t captured or eliminated and places like Swat aren’t stabilised, the IDPs’ issue will become even more complicated. The retaliatory suicide bombings and other acts of terrorism by the militants could also test the patience of the people and contribute to the concerns of the IDPs.

Most of the IDPs say they are angry with the Taliban for exposing them to sufferings, but they also blame the military and the government for causing their displacement. Still they would now want the army to deliver them peace and a quick return to their homes and villages. If that doesn’t happen, Pakistan would have to cope with a large number of discontented people and the Taliban would not find it difficult to recruit some of them for militant causes.

Dealing with IDPs

Displacement is too insufficient and perhaps even meaningless a word to convey the traumatic experience of physical dislocation. Sudden dislocation under warlike situations carries the feeling of uncertainty looming large for the terrorised souls. Today, the north-western part of Pakistan is witness to such an excruciating social-psychological trauma. It also sees an unprecedented resilience of local social capital. 

In a real Kafkaesque situation, the internally displaced people do not know the crime whose punishment they have been condemned to bear. They do not know when their predicament will cease so that they can safely return, and with viable livelihood options. Perhaps the only worthwhile tool in the survival kit is hope. It is said: Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Preparations for the worst are useless and inadequate when there are mostly inappropriate shelters and health facilities in many camps with limited or no food. The state of helplessness is painful. Many displaced persons have their wheat crop ready for harvesting but expensive and extremely dangerous return journeys put limit to their social wellbeing. 

Knowing the situation, the United Nations has asked for $440 million as immediate assistance for the people who have been uprooted during the war on terror. Beyond the immediate relief, early recovery needs much more than money. It puts the local social capital under a stringent test, along with the administrative capability of the state. In the absence of an explicit social policy, the most tested and bankable asset in Pakistan is the local social capital expressed through a magnificent show of solidarity with the people of Swat, Dir and Malakand. In fact, social capital is the Achilles’ heel of our social body which Talibanisation seeks to attack while creating political and social cleavages between and within the state and the society in the name of religion and sharia. 

The ghost of physical displacements keeps visiting Pakistan periodically. We met it in 1947, 1965, 1971 and 2005. Therefore, the experience of witnessing displacements is rich. What is inadequate is that level of administrative response, coordination, and information handling capacity which should have by now significantly strengthened. However, as an economist one can argue that Pakistan still needs to achieve a level of sustained economic growth which gives birth to social and political resilience in society and creates multiple levels of preventive capacity in the institutional arrangements of the state. 

However, as social policy experts argue, creating social protection and social development infrastructure has not been an activist-like concern of the state in Pakistan. It can be argued that lack of collectivist state-level concern disempowers societies and robs them of possible growth opportunities in managerial and technical capabilities to cope with both the natural and man-made disasters. 

The linkage between the welfare or developmental orientation of statecraft and availability of scientific information about people for targeting is simple. Theoretically, a government is accountable to the taxpayer. Money has to be utilised in a monitorable way. The target and processes must be transparent and activity result oriented. Therefore, person and location must be known both for public education and health. We lack this orientation in Pakistan. 

The ramifications of a lack of social security and protection polices and functional institutional arrangements are serious. For example, instead of mobilising educational and health departments for registration, the government of Sindh has been reported to start relying on the police. Without entering into a dispute over the need of registration, the politics of choice of office is the case in point. A commonsensical approach can inform that using police stations for registration of internally displaced persons will be harmful and create ethnic distensions in humanitarian work. Despite all good intentions, the regulation of displaced persons can degenerate into highhanded activity of law-enforcement agencies rather than a response of provincial social protection system. 

In the current disaster situation, the social capital or social capability which compensates for ineffectiveness of the state through charity and philanthropy is a valuable asset. In fact, under the circumstances, every penny counts and must be shared. The social arsenal of the nation must be well-quipped and efficiently deployed. 

Political society in Pakistan, while accommodating IDPs, should try to further build and enrich social capital rather than sabotaging it with political myopia. One good way of building social capital is to develop well-targeted disaster response capacity through the use of meticulously collected health and education data for development in normal times. This will add meaningful functional vitality to existing institutional arrangements such as NDMA and PDMAs. We should not forget that in disaster management it does matter whether you recognise 1.2 million or 2.2 million as displaced and scattered target population. In the longer term, social protection and security designed with precision is difficult but not impossible

The fires of ethnicity

The violent opposition in Sindh to the presence of IDPs in the province is a shocking reminder of the divisions that have effectively fractured society.

The MQM and Sindhi nationalist parties have united forces to oppose the entry of the IDPs to the province. The essential humanitarian element of their situation has been lost amidst the blinding hate inspired by ethnic factors, which has during the past few months already triggered episodes of mayhem in Karachi. The inter-connections between different parts of a country which make it one nation rather than a collection of isolated portions of territory have been lost.

There are many aspects to this issue that now confront us head on. The ethnic issue has played a part in creating a situation where only 38 per cent of NWFP and the adjacent FATA areas, according to a map put out by the BBC, are under the control of the Pakistan government. The Taliban have in many places used ethnicity almost as much as religion to establish their grip. Others too confuse the issue with notions of a 'tribal' Pakhtun culture and 'tradition', ignoring the fact that for the most part the militants of Baitullah Mehsud or Maulana Fazlullah are opposed by tribal leaders who previously held almost undisputed sway in the same areas. Neither offers a solution to the problems of people who essentially seek a greater role in the making of decisions about their own destiny.

The extent to which ethnic issues determine what happens in the state is evidenced too by the matter of the Kalabagh Dam. The minister for water and power has now re-affirmed the project has been scrapped, and says that the decision in this respect is final. This announcement will create some dissent in Punjab. The whole matter has become one of provinces pulling in opposite direction; it has also become one of pride rather than good sense. Amidst this tussle, it has become impossible to look objectively at the dam and its possible developmental benefits. It is possible that it may have brought some. But the fact is that the ethnic friction it created was so damaging, pitching groups of people against each other, that the decision to abandon the reservoir is almost certainly a wise one. A dam that resulted in so many further divides within an already weakening federation could serve no useful purpose at all.

In the IDP situation too, the ethnic realities are visible everywhere, and not just in Sindh. In NWFP, hundreds of people have opened up homes to the nearly two million people displaced from the war-hit areas. Keys to unused homes or rooms that lie empty have been handed over to IDPs in many places. In Punjab, in Sindh and indeed in Balochistan, the misery of the displaced is just as visible. The TV images beam in just as they do in the Frontier. The appeals for help are heard everywhere. But the generosity of spirit seen in the Frontier is in many ways absent. Even though relief goods have been handed over, there has been opposition in parts of Punjab to the location of IDP camps close to their residences and the provincial government itself seems somewhat confused about the issue.

Nowhere though are the ethnic tensions more visible than in Balochistan. The reports of schools which no longer play the national anthem or isolated incidents in which the Pakistan flag was reportedly burnt are the latest unpleasant indications of this. They have quite naturally created a wave of shocked anger. There is speculation that a military operation may be conducted against nationalists in Balochistan, possibly after the Taliban have been overcome. This, in the minds of some, would be a straightforward continuation of the bid to regain 'lost' territory. But there is a need, before any such action is begun, to contemplate all the angles. The events in Balochistan are extremely unfortunate; indeed tragic. But they are tied in to perceptions regarding an unjust federal policy to the province over many decades. It is this problem, which lies at the heart of the anger we now see in Balochistan, which needs in one way or the other to be addressed. Military manoeuvres will not achieve this, even if they succeed in temporarily snuffing out nationalist passions by adding to the growing list of those killed for their struggle in this cause. In time, such action will fuel only greater resentment and still more hatred. It must be avoided.

The ethnic issue then has come to dominate more and more elements of life within the state. The manner in which it is being used in the IDP issue is especially disturbing. What we need to do at this point is to step outside our state – metaphorically and not physically – and take a look at it from something of a distance. What we have is increasingly divided communities and a huge distance between people in various parts of the country. The distance is represented too by differences in culture, in language in modes of thought. It is senseless to try and eliminate these differences. That has not worked in the past; it will not work now. What we need to do is to create a greater sense of the whole, of unity – to use a cliche – by accepting differences and learning to embrace them as a source of strength and not a weakness.

It may of course take a generation, perhaps even more, for this to happen. But the attempt to build togetherness needs to start in the present, so that we indeed have a future. This can happen only by looking into the past. There are many in the country quite genuinely mystified by the war-crimes-trials process on in Bangladesh. This aims to try, after three and a half decades, those guilty of crimes committed in the then East Pakistan during its struggle for independence which culminated in 1971 in the creation of the independent state of Bangladesh. Although the proceedings, for which Bangladesh will be assisted by the UN, involves persons in Pakistan and also Bangladesh, Islamabad has feigned a kind of distant indifference, insisting this is an 'internal matter' of Bangladesh. This is not the case. The affair involves Pakistan and opens up many questions as to its past. 

These are questions we need to face up to; to confront head on. Only by doing so can meet the challenges we face today and ensure that we emerge from the process as a stronger nation rather than one in which there is a constant pull in different directions, threatening to weaken the basic structure itself.

About 126,000 displaced daily by Pakistan conflict

Pakistani displaced children wait their turn during a food distribution at Jalozai refugee camp in Peshawar, Pakistan

About 126,000 people are daily fleeing fighting in northwest Pakistan in one of the ‘fastest major displacements’ in recent years. Inhibitants continue to leave the areas of conflict between government forces and militants in search of refuge in Mardan, Charsadda, Swabi and Nowshera districts of North West Frontier province and Some 18,000 families -- about 126,000 people -- are registered on average every day in these districts.

The number of displaced people from the Swat, Lower Dir and Buner districts had reached 2.38 million since May 2. It is still difficult to know how many people were still trapped in the conflict zone and this is the reason it is not possible to estimate the potential scale of the displacement.

This is one of the fastest major displacements the world have seen in some years.

Children deal with the trauma of living in refugee camps

Pakistani displaced children who fled the troubled Swat Valley, attend a class at a make-shift school setup in Shiekh Yasin refugee camp in Mardan

Nabila Bibi sits in a tent in the blistering heat thinking about the dolls she left behind at home in the Pakistani mountains where the army and Taliban rebels are killing each other.

Rosy-cheeked Nabila understands nothing about Islamist insurgents and Pakistan's latest military offensive against them, which the United Nations said has displaced around 1.5 million people this month alone.

She is more concerned about her ‘lonely’ dolls. ‘I am very upset to be here. I feel all alone because my dolls are not with me. Is there someone who can bring these dolls from my house?’ Nabila asks her elder sister.

Nabila, 12, and her family were living outside the town of Mingora in the northwest Swat valley until they fled to the Yar Hussain camp in fear of their lives.

The dusty camp was set up by the government in North West Frontier Province (NWFP) with the help of the UN refugee agency on the outskirts of the town of Swabi, sheltering about 1,200 families in the same number of tents.

‘It is very hot here. I have no friends nor is there any proper playing field like the one I had in front of my house,’ said Nabila, who is taking classes at a temporary school in the camp.

The UN children's agency UNICEF, deeply concerned about the psychological toll on children displaced by the operation to flush out the militants, said it was providing education and recreation in 13 camps where families are holed up.

‘It is vital for children to cope with the trauma of displacement,’ UNICEF spokeswoman Antonia Paradela says.

She said counselling services for women and children are available in all those camps, with trained staff identifying children who have been damaged mentally and helping them cope with a predicament which is none of their doing.

‘Children have also been provided toys, pencils and drawing paper to help them regain confidence,’ Paradela said.

But for all these initiatives, many youngsters in Yar Hussain look unsettled and some plain unhappy.

‘I miss my friends with whom I used to play cricket. I am a big fan of leg spinner cricketing hero Shahid Afridi,’ said Nauman Ali, 16, a carpenter from Mingora, Swat's main town.

‘I wish he would visit me in this camp. I like him because he is also a good batsman. He has a lovely style of hitting sixes.’ Nauman looked sceptical when asked if he thought he would go home soon.

‘I really don't know when I will be able to go back home and play cricket with my friends.’ Jawad Khan, a third grade pupil, said he wanted to become a doctor.

‘How can I continue my studies in an area where bombs and grenades explode daily? Stories about a group of people who slit the throats of their brothers scare me a lot,’ said Jawad, apparently referring to Taliban rebels.

‘I have a few friends from my area in this camp and we all agree these are dirty people,’ he added while carrying his half-naked infant sister.

Six-year-old Nadia Khan, meandering with her mother through the camp, where long queues of men and children formed at lunch time, repeatedly begged to be let out the camp.

‘I want to go home and play with my friends, please take me back,’ she pleaded with her mother in broken Urdu.

Despite severe irritation in her eyes caused by a dust storm, Nadia was hungry—even if the dish of spicy rice with chickpeas was hardly mouth-watering.

Shahid Khan, an eighth grade student, said the fighting had ‘shattered’ his dreams. But he was resolute nonetheless. ‘I want to become an army officer. I like their uniform, I like their discipline,’ he said.

‘I am determined to continue my studies. If this is not possible in Mingora, I will ask my father to send me to another city where I can complete my studies and join the army.’

The state that wouldn’t fail

How many more challenges can we afford to put off till the last possible second?

PAKISTAN is the country that just won’t fail. It threatens to, seemingly always on the brink, always giving the world a collective migraine, always on the verge of chaos, but just when you think we’re done for, when all hope is lost, when it seems nothing can save it from itself, somehow we end up doing just enough of the right thing to keep the country afloat, to live another day to drift into another crisis.

And so it is this time with the operation in Malakand division. The government wants you to believe that it had a plan all along, that the Nizam-i-Adl was a way of stripping away the last vestiges of justification for the militancy in Swat, that the negotiations with the TNSM were a necessary charade to expose the motives of Maulana Fazlullah and his band of savages.

Would that the illusion of a government with a plan in hand were the truth. The fact is, the government, and us, the people, by extension, got lucky. If the ANP government in NWFP and the PPP government in Islamabad had their way, Sufi Mohammad would still quietly be rearranging society in Malakand to his liking, with the TTP the stick with which Sufi would enforce his law in his bailiwick. And thus, with one problem confined to one area, the governments in Peshawar and Islamabad could go about their business of pretending to govern the other areas under their control.

But two things happened to spoil the plan, and while both were always likely to have occurred, it would be charitable in the extreme to argue that the provincial and federal governments anticipated them and had factored them into their plans for Malakand.

First, the militants in Swat, freed from fighting in the district, set forth and began to spread their seed in neighbouring districts. We can know the government didn’t expect this because it installed a pro-Taliban commissioner in Malakand and didn’t do anything to try and stop the militants from slipping into Buner, Lower Dir and Shangla and setting up shop for business.

Fact is, if the government’s plan always was to eventually fight the militants it would have acted to limit the theatre in which the militants were to be fought. But now, even weeks after trying to retake even a small mountain village like Pir Baba in Buner, the army is struggling. What could have been nipped in the bud by local police and administrative action, has become a full-fledged military operation.

Second, Sufi Mohammad reverted to his kooky ideas publicly. Neither the ANP nor the PPP expected it — in fact they planned for something quite the contrary. The massive gathering on that scenic grassy field in Mingora was arranged by the government to give Sufi a grand stage from which to denounce Fazlullah and declare a fatwa against his intransigent militants. But when Sufi got up on the stage, he became giddy at the sight of all those thousands gathered to listen to him and thought, ‘Heck with it, this is my moment. I’ll speak from the heart.’

And so he did, declaring everybody and everything in Pakistan un-Islamic. The cameras focused on the wild applause of the audience, but if they had looked elsewhere they would have captured the stricken faces of government officials. Things had most definitely not gone according to plan.

So, once the original plan — if it can even be called a plan — had failed, the government had to come up with something else; and by then the only option left was the military option. Criticism of the government at this stage may seem churlish, given that so rarely does a Pakistani government do the right thing even after all the wrong options have been exhausted.

But the story of how this government arrived at the military option in Malakand is important because it is not the final stop in the fight against militancy — there is a long road ahead, and it weaves through Fata and Punjab and Pakistan’s cities. The point is, if the road ahead is navigated with a similar mix of lucky breaks and nonsense planning, a fortuitous result is far more unlikely than likely.

Steering blindfolded may yet get the government around another bend or two and burnish the legend of Pakistan being the state that just won’t fail, but it won’t affect the inexorable logic of failure in the long run — you can only get away with mismanagement of a country for so long in the face of a violent threat. If not tomorrow or next year, then five, 10, 15 years down the road, at some point our luck will run out. That isn’t abject cynicism, it is a logical certainty.

But for all the sins of omission and commission, the failures of the government of today — or even the one of tomorrow — are only part of the problem. At the root of the problem of militancy is the security establishment — essentially the Pakistan Army high command with sections of the intelligence apparatus and retired officers as its instruments of policy implementation.

It is that group which sets the parameters of what the state can or cannot do against the militants, and it still cleaves to the distinction between good and bad militants. There is no reason to believe that it is not serious about eliminating the militants in Malakand this time. The militants there have proved intractable and of no utility to the state — in fact, they are a threat to it and therefore are being taken on.

But there is every reason to believe that the security establishment is serious about maintaining that distinction elsewhere. And that is especially problematic when it comes to dealing with Ground Zero of militancy — the Waziristan agencies.

Separating good from bad is tactically possible when the good and bad militants are spatially separated, in small numbers and not in control of territory. So in Punjab and the cities the state can go after Al Qaeda militants — the bad ones — while turning a blind eye to the good ones, our home-grown jihadi networks.

But in the Waziristan agencies the good and the bad are intertwined, exist in larger numbers and control the territory. Trying to whack the bad militants there while avoiding trampling the good ones is a non-starter. To succeed there — and there is no doubt that militancy in Pakistan cannot be defeated without success there — the good/bad distinction would need to be abandoned first.

And if we don’t drop that distinction soon, the legend of the state that just wouldn’t fail may eventually prove untrue.