Until not so long ago, summers in Southasia meant bright mornings, languid afternoons, balmy evenings and slothful nights, all endured listlessly by the power elite with endless glasses of nimbu paani, spiced mattha, sweet lassi, cold coffee or whatever else they drink in private. Everything on the political front would remain more or less at a standstill, as everyone waited for the monsoon downpour. But times have changed. Even though winters are now warmer and summers hotter, the wheels of political economy in the region have begun to turn irrespective of the weather cycle. And from Islamabad to Dhaka and Kathmandu to Colombo, decision-makers make moves from their climate-controlled lairs, with repercussions far and wide into the periphery.
The summer of 2009 has, thus far, been marked by momentous events all over Southasia. From Pakhtoonistan and Waziristan in the northwest to the Karen homeland in the east, and from Kashmir up north to Jaffna in the south, the entire region is passing through multiple, simultaneous convulsions. The ferment underway midway through this hot summer will undoubtedly have cataclysmic impact; but at the moment, it is difficult to be definitive about the changes that the current turmoil will bring in its wake. As dry westerly winds blow relentlessly and the monsoon is delayed, fear and apprehension hang thick that the rightward drift of politics could weaken an already sluggish pace of democratisation in the Subcontinent.
To start in the west of the region, US strategists have firsthand knowledge of what ferocious Taliban fighters are capable of doing. It was under the stewardship of the Pacific Command that mujahideen warriors waged jihad against godless Marxists in Afghanistan. Now, some 'unconventional war' experts have openly begun to speculate whether 'Af-Pak' will turn out to be President Barack Obama's Vietnam. Yet another set of Pentagon schemers fear that Pakistan too might fall apart, necessitating an Afghanistan-style takeover of a failed state. In this confusion, a military solution appears the most attractive option by which to tackle religious extremism; but it is also the least likely to succeed in an area known for a long tradition of defying distant authorities and resisting imperial control.
Taking its cue from American benefactors, the Pakistan Army has declared war against the Taliban in the Swat Valley (see also ´Mingora and beyond´ by Iqbal Khattak). The military now says that the ground offensive will soon cease, and that the bearded zealots have been roundly defeated. A similar strategy of encirclement on the ground backed by relentless aerial bombardment is being tried in South Waziristan. Faced with a fight-to-the-finish with one of the largest armed forces in the world, Taliban combatants are most likely on the run. But all is not quiet on the western front, where US drones bomb anything suspicious that either moves or remains stationary, even when most victims seem increasingly likely to be innocent civilians. It is a lot easier for Taliban fighters to come down to the plains of Sindh and Punjab and melt into a sympathetic crowd of dissatisfied urbanites in Karachi, Hyderabad, Lahore and Islamabad – at least, so goes the rising anxieties of urban-based political parties.