Ethnic Subnationalist Insurgencies in South Asia

This book provides a micro-historical analysis of the emergence and contemporary dynamics of recent ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in South Asia. Using comparative case studies, it discusses the causes of each insurgency, analyses the trajectory and dynamics of each, including attempts at resolution, and highlights the wider theories of ethnonationalist insurgency. Bringing together an international group of contributors, the book covers insurgencies in India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Nepal, and Bangladesh. It questions why ethnic subnationalist insurgencies occurred at particular points in time and not at others, and explores the comparative trajectories of these movements. The book goes on to discern reappearing patterns of conflict escalation/de-escalation through the method of comparative process- tracing. It argues that while identity is a necessary factor for insurgency, it is not a sufficient one. Instead, ethnic mobilization and insurgency only emerge when it is activated by tension emerging from political competition between ethnic and central state elites. These political dynamics, when combined with favorable socio-economic conditions, make the ethnic masses primed to accept the often symbolically rich appeals from their leaders to mobilize against the central state. Providing an important study on ethnonationalist insurgencies in South Asia, the book will be of interest to those working in the fields of South Asian Politics, Security Studies and Ethnic Conflict.

Jugdep S. Chima is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at Hiram College, Ohio, USA. He was previously a Lecturer of Political Science at the University of California, Berkeley, USA, and Associate Editor for South Asia at Asian Survey at the same institution. He is author of The Sikh Separatist Insur- gency in India: Political Leadership and Ethnonationalist Movements (2010). Routledge Contemporary South Asia Series

1 Pakistan 8 Regionalism in South Asia Social and cultural transformations Negotiating cooperation, in a Muslim nation institutional structures Mohammad A. Qadeer Kishore C. Dash

2 Labor, Democratization and 9 Federalism, Nationalism and Development in India and Development Pakistan India and the Punjab economy Christopher Candland Pritam Singh 10 Human Development and Social 3 China–India Relations Power Contemporary dynamics Perspectives from South Asia Amardeep Athwal Ananya Mukherjee Reed 4 Madrasas in South Asia 11 The South Asian Diaspora Teaching terror? Transnational networks and Jamal Malik changing identities Edited by Rajesh Rai and 5 Labor, Globalization and the Peter Reeves State Workers, women and migrants 12 Pakistan–Japan Relations confront neoliberalism Continuity and change in Edited by Debdas Banerjee and economic relations and security Michael Goldfield interests Ahmad Rashid Malik 6 Indian Literature and Popular 13 Himalayan Frontiers of India Cinema Historical, geo-political and Recasting classics strategic perspectives Edited by Heidi R.M. Pauwels K. Warikoo 7 Islamist Militancy in Bangladesh 14 India’s Open- Economy Policy A complex web Globalism, rivalry, continuity Ali Riaz Jalal Alamgir 15 The Separatist Conflict in Sri 23 Economic and Human Lanka Development in Contemporary Terrorism, ethnicity, political India economy Cronyism and fragility Asoka Bandarage Debdas Banerjee

16 India’s Energy Security 24 Culture and the Environment in Edited by Ligia Noronha and the Himalaya Anant Sudarshan Arjun Guneratne

17 Globalization and the Middle 25 The Rise of Ethnic Politics in Classes in India Nepal The social and cultural impact of Democracy in the margins neoliberal reforms Susan I. Hangen Ruchira Ganguly- Scrase and Timothy J. Scrase 26 The Multiplex in India A cultural economy of urban leisure 18 Water Policy Processes in India Adrian Athique and Douglas Hill Discourses of power and resistance 27 Tsunami Recovery in Sri Lanka Vandana Asthana Ethnic and regional dimensions Dennis B. McGilvray and 19 Minority Governments in India Michele R. Gamburd The puzzle of elusive majorities Csaba Nikolenyi 28 Development, Democracy and the State 20 The Maoist Insurgency in Nepal Critiquing the Kerala model of Revolution in the twenty-first development century K. Ravi Raman Edited by Mahendra Lawoti and Anup K. Pahari 29 Mohajir Militancy in Pakistan Violence and transformation in the 21 Global Capital and Peripheral Karachi conflict Labour Nichola Khan The history and political economy of plantation workers in India 30 Nationbuilding, Gender and K. Ravi Raman War Crimes in South Asia Bina D’Costa 22 Maoism in India Reincarnation of ultra-left wing 31 The State in India after extremism in the twenty-first Liberalization century Interdisciplinary perspectives Bidyut Chakrabarty and Edited by Akhil Gupta and Rajat Kujur K. Sivaramakrishnan 32 National Identities in Pakistan 41 Explaining Pakistan’s Foreign The 1971 war in contemporary Policy Pakistani fiction Escaping India Cara Cilano Aparna Pande

33 Political Islam and Governance 42 Development- induced in Bangladesh Displacement, Rehabilitation Edited by Ali Riaz and and Resettlement in India C. Christine Fair Current issues and challenges Edited by Sakarama Somayaji and 34 Bengali Cinema Smrithi Talwar ‘An other nation’ Sharmistha Gooptu 43 The Politics of Belonging in India Becoming Adivasi 35 NGOs in India Edited by Daniel J. Rycroft and The challenges of women’s Sangeeta Dasgupta empowerment and accountability Patrick Kilby 44 Re- Orientalism and South Asian 36 The Labour Movement in the Identity Politics Global South The oriental Other within Trade unions in Sri Lanka Edited by Lisa Lau and S. Janaka Biyanwila Ana Cristina Mendes

37 Building Bangalore 45 Islamic Revival in Nepal Architecture and urban Religion and a new nation transformation in India’s Silicon Megan Adamson Sijapati Valley John C. Stallmeyer 46 Education and Inequality in India A classroom view 38 Conflict and Peacebuilding in Manabi Majumdar and Jos Mooij Sri Lanka Caught in the peace trap? 47 The Culturalization of Caste in Edited by Jonathan Goodhand, India Jonathan Spencer and Identity and inequality in a Benedict Korf multicultural age Balmurli Natrajan 39 Microcredit and Women’s Empowerment 48 Corporate Social Responsibility A case study of Bangladesh in India Amunui Faraizi, Jim McAllister Bidyut Chakrabarty and Taskinur Rahman 49 Pakistan’s Stability Paradox 40 South Asia in the New World Domestic, regional and Order international dimensions The role of regional cooperation Edited by Ashutosh Misra and Shahid Javed Burki Michael E. Clarke 50 Transforming Urban Water 59 Islam and Higher Education Supplies in India Concepts, challenges and The role of reform and opportunities partnerships in globalization Marodsilton Muborakshoeva Govind Gopakumar 60 Religious Freedom in India 51 South Asian Security Sovereignty and (anti) conversion Twenty- first century discourse Goldie Osuri Sagarika Dutt and Alok Bansal 61 Everyday Ethnicity in 52 Non- discrimination and Sri Lanka Equality in India Up- country Tamil identity politics Contesting boundaries of social Daniel Bass justice Vidhu Verma 62 Ritual and Recovery in Post- 53 Being Middle-class in India Conflict Sri Lanka A way of life Eloquent bodies Henrike Donner Jane Derges

54 Kashmir’s Right to Secede 63 Bollywood and Globalisation A critical examination of The global power of popular Hindi contemporary theories of cinema secession Edited by David J. Schaefer and Matthew J. Webb Kavita Karan

55 Bollywood Travels 64 Regional Economic Integration Culture, diaspora and border in South Asia crossings in popular Hindi cinema Trapped in conflict? Rajinder Dudrah Amita Batra 56 Nation, Territory, and 65 Architecture and Nationalism in Globalization in Pakistan Sri Lanka Traversing the margins The trouser under the cloth Chad Haines Anoma Pieris 57 The Politics of Ethnicity in Pakistan 66 Civil Society and The Baloch, Sindhi and Mohajir Democratization in India ethnic movements Institutions, ideologies and Farhan Hanif Siddiqi interests Sarbeswar Sahoo 58 Nationalism and Ethnic Conflict Identities and mobilization after 67 Contemporary Pakistani Fiction 1990 in English Edited by Mahendra Lawoti and Idea, nation, state Susan Hangen Cara N. Cilano 68 Transitional Justice in South Asia 77 Being Bengali A study of Afghanistan and Nepal At home and in the world Tazreena Sajjad Edited by Mridula Nath Chakraborty 69 Displacement and Resettlement in India 78 The Political Economy of Ethnic The human cost of development Conflict in Sri Lanka Hari Mohan Mathur Nikolaos Biziouras

70 Water, Democracy and 79 Indian Arranged Marriages Neoliberalism in India A social psychological The power to reform perspective Vicky Walters Tulika Jaiswal

71 Capitalist Development in 80 Writing the City in British India’s Informal Economy Asian Diasporas Elisabetta Basile Edited by Seán McLoughlin, William Gould, Ananya Jahanara 72 Nation, Constitutionalism and Kabir and Emma Tomalin Buddhism in Sri Lanka Roshan de Silva Wijeyeratne 81 Post- 9/11 Espionage Fiction in the US and Pakistan 73 Counterinsurgency, Democracy, Spies and ‘terrorists’ and the Politics of Identity in Cara Cilano India From warfare to welfare? Mona Bhan 82 Left Radicalism in India Bidyut Chakrabarty 74 Enterprise Culture in Neoliberal India 83 “Nation- State” and Minority Studies in youth, class, work and Rights in India media Comparative perspectives on Edited by Nandini Gooptu Muslim and Sikh identities Tanweer Fazal 75 The Politics of Economic Restructuring in India 84 Pakistan’s Nuclear Policy Economic governance and state A minimum credible deterrence spatial rescaling Zafar Khan Loraine Kennedy 85 Imagining Muslims in South 76 The Other in South Asian Asia and the Diaspora Religion, Literature and Film Secularism, religion, Perspectives on Otherism and representations Otherness Claire Chambers and Caroline Edited by Diana Dimitrova Herbert 86 Indian Foreign Policy in 92 Reshaping City Governance Transition London, Mumbai, Kolkata, Relations with South Asia Hyderabad Arijit Mazumdar Nirmala Rao

87 Corporate Social Responsibility 93 The Indian Partition in and Development in Pakistan Literature and Films Nadeem Malik History, politics, and aesthetics Rini Bhattacharya Mehta and 88 Indian Capitalism in Debali Mookerjea-Leonard Development Barbara Harriss- White and 94 Development, Poverty and Judith Heyer Power in Pakistan The impact of state and donor 89 Bangladesh Cinema and interventions on farmers National Identity Syed Mohammad Ali In search of the modern? Zakir Hossain Raju 95 Ethnic Subnationalist Insurgencies in South Asia 90 Suicide in Sri Lanka Identities, interests and challenges The anthropology of an epidemic to state authority Tom Widger Jugdep S. Chima

91 Epigraphy and Islamic Culture Arabic and Persian inscriptions of Bengal and their historical and cultural implications Mohammad Yusuf Siddiq 7KLVSDJHLQWHQWLRQDOO\OHIWEODQN Ethnic Subnationalist Insurgencies in South Asia Identities, interests and challenges to state authority

Jugdep S. Chima First published 2015 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2015 selection and editorial matter, Jugdep S. Chima; individual chapters, the contributors The right of the editor to be identified as the author of the editorial matter, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested

ISBN: 978-1-138-83992-2 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-73313-5 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Wearset Ltd, Boldon, Tyne and Wear This book is respectfully dedicated to Jyotirindra Das Gupta (my undergraduate advisor), Paul Wallace (my graduate advisor), and Pradeep Chhibber (my postgraduate advisor), all of whom have helped shape my study of ethnic politics and South Asia. 7KLVSDJHLQWHQWLRQDOO\OHIWEODQN Contents

List of illustrations xv Notes on contributors xvi Acknowledgments xviii

1 Ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in contemporary South Asia: an introduction 1 JUGDEP S. CHIMA

2 The Kashmir insurgency: multiple actors, divergent interests, institutionalized conflict 17 DEEPTI SHARMA

3 The political economy and changing organisational dynamics of the ULFA insurgency in Assam 41 PAHI SAIKIA

4 The Khalistan movement in Punjab- India and the post- militancy era: structural change and new political compulsions 61 VIRGINIA VAN DYKE

5 Insurgencies of northeast India: ethnic/tribal competition, state responses, and underdevelopment 82 LAWRENCE E. CLINE

6 The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka: political/ cultural grievance, unsuccessful negotiations, and organizational evolution 101 JAYADEVA UYANGODA xiv Contents 7 Renewed ethnonationalist insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan: the militarized state and continuing economic deprivation 124 ADEEL KHAN

8 Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts of Bangladesh: an unimplemented accord and continued violence 143 PRANAB KUMAR PANDAY AND ISHTIAq JAMIL

9 The Naxalites of India, Maoists of Nepal and Taliban of Pakistan: ideological insurgencies in South Asia 161 VASUNDHARA SIRNATE

10 Ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in contemporary South Asia: a conclusion 178 JUGDEP S. CHIMA

Index 187 Illustrations

Figures 1.1 Causal model of ethnonationalist insurgency in South Asia 2 10.1 Causal model of ethnonationalist insurgency in South Asia 179

Tables 4.1 Formation and termination of cabinets in Punjab, 1967 to present 64 5.1 List of insurgencies in northeast India 84 5.2 Death toll from insurgencies in northeast India 91 8.1 Increasing trend of non-ethnic Jumma people in CHT 146 Contributors

Jugdep S. Chima is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at Hiram College, Ohio, USA. He is author of The Sikh Separatist Insurgency in India: Political Leadership and Ethnonationalist Movements (Sage Publications, 2010). He was previously a Lecturer of Political Science at the University of California, Berkeley and Associate Editor for South Asia at Asian Survey at the same institution. Lawrence E. Cline is a contract instructor with the Counterterrorism Fellowship Program, Center for Civil Military Relations, Naval Postgraduate School, USA. He is a retired US Army Military Intelligence officer, with service in Lebanon, El Salvador, Kuwait, Somalia, and Iraq. His major research interests are in counterinsurgency and counterterrorism. Ishtiaq Jamil is Associate Professor at the Department of Administration and Organization Theory, University of Bergen, Bergen, Norway. Adeel Khan is a Lecturer at the School of Humanities, University of New England, Armidale, New South Wales, Australia. Pranab Kumar Panday is Professor at the Department of Public Administra- tion, University of Rajshahi, Rajshahi, Bangladesh. Pahi Saikia is an Assistant Professor of political science in the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, Indian Institute of Technology, Guwahati, India. Her current research interests include ethnic conflict and prevention, governance, and social movements. She is the author of Ethnic Mobilisation and Violence in Northeast India (Routledge, 2011). Deepti Sharma is a doctoral student in the Department of Political Science at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, USA. Vasundhara Sirnate is the Chief Coordinator of Research at The Hindu Centre for Politics and Public Policy in Chennai, India. She is also a doctoral candidate in Political Science at the University of California, Berkeley. Her ongoing research looks at the Indian state’s differential counterinsurgency strategies pursued in northeast India and central India. Contributors xvii Jayadeva Uyangoda is a Professor of Political Science and Public Policy at the University of Colombo, Sri Lanka. Virginia Van Dyke is currently Adjunct Assistant Professor at the University of Washington. She was formerly Assistant Professor of Political Science at the University of Wisconsin- Milwaukee. She has published on the topics of religion and politics, religious violence, and coalition politics. Acknowledgments

The academic, professional, and personal debts I have accumulated in the com- pilation and publication of this edited book are numerous. I wish to thank Bob Haak, the academic dean at Hiram College, who helped me secure funding from the Dively Publication Fund to hire student research assistants for preparation of the final book manuscript for submission. Bob is a model academic dean, whose professional and personal support is invaluable for the faculty teaching (and researching) at a small private liberal arts college like Hiram College. Taylor Berenda and Jedidiah Anderson served as my trusted student research assistants in this endeavor. Elliott Lopes from the media center at the Hiram College Library provided invaluable assistance in producing the artwork in the book’s introductory and concluding chapters. John Koritansky (the former director of the Garfield Institute for Public Leadership at Hiram College) and James Thomp- son (the director of the new Garfield Center for Public Leadership) provided institutional funding for preparing the book’s index. Doug Brattebo and Kathy Luschek, both also colleagues at Hiram College, graciously endured my repeated interruptions to their work to hear me talk about various aspects of the book. Bonnie Dehler, my former colleague at Asian Survey at UC- Berkeley, helped secure reprinting permission from UC Press for select chapters appearing in this edited book. Finally, this book is graciously and respectfully dedicated to Jyotir- indra Das Gupta (my undergraduate advisor at UC- Berkeley), Paul Wallace (my graduate advisor at the University of Missouri) and Pradeep Chhibber (my post- doctoral advisor at UC- Berkeley), all of whom have helped shape my academic understanding of politics and South Asia. I hope the academic content and quality of this edited book lives up, if only marginally, to the high expectations they set forth for me through their years of intellectual guidance and personal friendship. I can never adequately repay the investment of time and guidance they have put into me as their friend, student, and fellow scholar. 1 Ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in contemporary South Asia An introduction

Jugdep S. Chima

South Asia is home to over one- fifth of the world’s population. The region— consisting of eight countries (Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Nepal, the Maldives, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka)—contains a bewildering number of ethnic groups that are based on a mixture of various religious, linguistic, regional, cultural, and tribal identities. The departing colonial powers, especially the British in 1947, largely defined the borders between the various emerging countries in the region. The demarcation of these political boundaries determined the composition of ethnic groups residing in these newly independent multiethnic states. The result is potentially divided loyalties, with parochial ethnonationalism on one hand and patriotism (e.g. loyalty to the central state) on the other. In addition to promoting economic and human development for their citizens, the primary task of central political elites in these newly independent, and in some cases newly created, states (e.g. Pakistan and later Bangladesh) became how to maintain their country’s territorial integrity and unity. This task necessi- tated two concurrent processes—nation- building and state-building. (Brass 1990: 31) The former consisted of trying to build overarching national identities through the utilization of carefully selected and salient cultural and iconic symbols in order to bind the various ethnic groups within a country’s borders into a larger self-identifying collectivity. This also sometimes involved eroding parochial subnational identities, termed “nation-destroying” by one scholar, into wider collective ones. (Conner 1972) In contrast, the latter process consisted of extending the power of the central government and its institutions into the peripheral regions of the countries, where various subnationalist groups resided in their historic cultural “homelands” (Midgal 1988). Needless to say, these two processes often caused friction, sometimes violent, between the central (national-level) political elites and the leaders of the various subnationalist ethnic groups—all of which differed in their degree of objective internal cohesion, levels of political self-consciousness, and willingness to espouse the wider collective identity. (Brass 1991: 73–75) This friction, sometimes violent in the form of secessionist insurgencies, continues even today, several decades after independence. Yet the mere presence of subnationalist ethnic groups does not automatically or necessarily lead to violent secessionism. In fact, violent conflict between the central state and subnationalist ethnic groups 2 J.S. Chima (or actually factions within these groups) is not ubiquitous but only occurs at particular times. It is not endemic and constant as implied by the primordialists. This edited volume attempts to answer the question why ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in South Asia occur at particular points in time and not at others? In addition, it explores the comparative trajectories of these movements. Nine noted scholars provide a detailed micro- historical analysis of the emergence, dynamics, and trajectories of their particular case(s) of ethnic subnationalist insurgency in South Asia. The overall task of this volume is to discern reappearing patterns of conflict escalation/de-escalation through the method of comparative “process- tracing.”1 The main argument forwarded in this book is that while “identity” is a necessary factor for insurgency, it is not a sufficient one. Instead, ethnic mobilization and insurgency only emerge when it is “activated” by tension emerging from political competition between ethnic and central state elites (or from concurrent competition between ethnic elites themselves leading to “ethnic- outbidding”2 and confrontation with state authorities). These political dynamics, when combined with favorable socioeconomic and/or political conditions, make the ethnic masses primed to accept the often symbolically rich appeals from their leaders to mobilize against the central state. Favorable socioeconomic conditions include either when an ethnic group faces objectively deteriorating economic conditions or, alternatively, when members of an ethnic group feel that their future economic prospects are adversely affected by continued inclusion within the unified country. (Horowitz 1985: 229–264) Political conditions conducive to ethnic insurgency include either when the official state- sponsored “construction” of national identity is not inclusive of minority ethnic groups or, alternatively, when the national government centralizes power in the center at the expense of inclusive forms of more decentralized federalism. (Stepan et al. 2011) A schematic representation of this comprehensive model for the timing and dynamics of mobilization would look like that shown in Figure 1.1.

Internal group elite competition

Identity Favorable socio-economic/political conditions Violence

Ethnic vs. state elite competition

Figure 1.1 Causal model of ethnonationalist insurgency in South Asia. Introduction 3 But before previewing the specific cases analyzed in this volume, it is necessary to take a brief foray through the theoretical literature on ethnic identity and collective mobilization that, in addition to the empirical content of the actual cases, provides the conceptual logic for the model for the onset of ethnic mobilization presented in Figure 1.1.

Integrating “competing” theories of ethnic identity and collective mobilization

The nature of ethnic identity As alluded to earlier, the causal model for the onset of ethnic mobilization presented in this book assumes that identity is a necessary, but not sufficient, condition for this phenomenon. This position is largely consistent with the existing literature on ethnic identity, which is bifurcated between the so- called primordialists and instrumentalists. Primordialists generally assume that identity is the primary basis for ethnic mobilization and violence. According to the ideal-type primordialist perspective, ethnic identity is a phenomenon which is a “natural given” and part of human existence (Geertz 1967: 109). Furthermore, it is something which is characterized as being immutable, ineffable, and overpowering. In fact, some primordialists have even asserted that an individual’s willingness to sacrifice for their own ethnic group flows from a “genetic predisposition” to favor’s one’s own kin for group survival (van den Berghe 1981). While this sociobiological interpretation may be empirically problematic, at minimum, primordialists argue that ethnic identity flows from (real or perceived) blood ties and extended kinship networks. In contrast, adherents of the instrumentalist perspective criticize primordialists as being conceptually too simplistic and causally overly deterministic in their description of ethnic identity and its effect on political behavior. Instead, instrumentalists view ethnicity as being a phenomenon which is socially constructed, malleable, and situational (Eller and Coughlan 1993). In particular, they criticize the primordialist perspective as being incapable of explaining the specific timing of mobilization. This, as Brass contends, can only be explained by discerning how political leaders, often competing against each other at particular points in time, consciously manipulate political symbols to construct conceptions of ethnic identity favorable to mobilizing large sections of the ethnic community in question (Brass 1991: 86–88). The model of ethnic mobilization presented in this book integrates elements of both primordialism and instrumentalism by arguing that identity is a necessary, but not sufficient, factor for mobilization. To explain, ethnonationalist insurgencies, by definition, inevitably occur on the basis of ethnic identity but identity alone is not the primary catalyst behind mobilization. As depicted in Figure 1.1, ethnic identity must be catalyzed by either political competition between ethnic leaders resulting in competitive “ethnic outbidding” within a group, or by competition between ethnic leaders and the central state elites. The 4 J.S. Chima latter is most likely to occur either when the central leadership emphasizes a majoritarian conception of “national identity” excluding minor ethnic groups, or when the national leadership centralizes power at the expense of cooperative federalism. The connective tissue (or causal pathway) between the leaders’ symbolic appeals and the ethnic masses is provided by Henry Hale. (Hale 2004) By assessing the psychological literature on the topic, Hale argues that human beings have an inherent cognitive need to “reduce uncertainty” because of the cognitive limitations of the human brain. In essence, “identities” help individuals navigate the social world by acting as “cognitive schema” or shortcuts to action (Hale 2004: 468–470). The convergence of “personal points of social reference” (which can include tangible cultural markers or symbolically rich historical myths) between individuals provide the basis for group formation and eventually in- group behavior. Thus, the ideological and symbolically rich appeals of leaders to mobilize often tap into potentially salient parts of an individual’s sense of self and other. This is not necessarily a sense of “false conscious,” but rather an integral part of an individual’s psyche, in terms of one’s cognitive needs and the functions served by “identity.” Nonetheless, the ethnic masses who mobilize behind leaders do not do so automatically. After all, ethnic leaders are not puppet masters who can manipulate the ethnic masses at will with their symbolic appeals. Instead, as implied in Figure 1.1, political and socioeconomic conditions must also be favorable (or must be made more favorable by deliberative consciousness- raising) to enhance the salience of the symbolic appeals. In other words, ethnic appeals and the salience of particular cultural symbols are enhanced when political and socioeconomic conditions are such that they help prime the ethnic masses for mobilizing. Otherwise, ethnic appeals by leaders, however potentially symbolically rich, are likely to fall flat and be dismissed by the target audience. Thus, while the base of mobilization may emerge from elite competition, the prospects for its success are enhanced by a favorable political and socioeconomic environment as demonstrated in Figure 1.1. While the discussion above appears to support the instrumentalist view of ethnicity and mobilization, this is not necessarily the case. After all, the instrumentalists fail to appreciate one immensely important contribution made by the primordialists—namely the emotional salience of ethnic symbols for those members of an ethnic group who do mobilize, and those who are willing to fight and die on behalf of the community. As Walker Conner emphasizes, the ethnic bond is often an intense psychological one which is beyond reason, but not necessarily irrational (Conner 1993). In fact, the ethnonationalist appeals that have a better chance to successfully mobilize individuals are those which emphasize one’s “primordial” blood ties to family, tribe, and motherland/father- land. In the words of Conner, “men die for their passions not for their interests” (Conner 1993: 386). Thus, the model presented in Figure 1.1 combines elements of both primordialism and instrumentalism into a more holistic causal explanation for ethnic mobilization, combining both the importance of identity as well as various catalytic political and socio-economic factors. Introduction 5 Theories of collective mobilization and internal conflict This model also integrates much of the existing literature on the causes of ethnic mobilization and internal conflict, which is much more diverse and multifaceted than that on the nature of ethnicity. The problem with the existing literature on mobilization and internal conflict is evident from the wide range of possible causal factors identified for these phenomena. According to Michael Brown, there are about a dozen potential specific “underlying causes” of internal conflict, such as weak states, intra- state security concerns, ethnic geography, economic problems, discriminatory economic systems, the effects of modernization, discriminatory political institutions, exclusionary ideologies, intergroup politics, cultural discrimination, and problematic group histories (Brown 1996: 5). These factors can be conveniently classified into four larger categories: (1) structural factors, (2) economic/social factors, (3) political factors, and (4) cultural/perceptual factors (Brown 1996: 5). Yet, as Brown (1996: 13) correctly assesses,

The existing literature on internal conflict does a commendable job of sur- veying the underlying factors or permissive conditions that make some situations particularly prone to violence, but it is weak when it comes to identifying the catalytic factors—the triggers or proximate causes—of internal conflict.

In particular, he suggests examining the role of domestic elites, and their power struggles against each other, as being the proximate catalysts of violence. The interplay between identity, favorable economic and political conditions, and the role of political leaders is also found in the three main explanatory theories (as opposed to typologies) of collective mobilization—rational-choice, social constructivism, and socio- psychological theories—although the precise catalytic mechanism in each body of theory differs. For example, rational-choice theorists contend that the primary obstacle for collective mobilization is the classic “free-rider” problem.3 This obstacle, they argue, can only be overcome by giving selective benefits, usually material rewards, to those who become willing to participate in the collective movement.4 Yet rational- choice theorists also realize the potentially limited scope of their primary catalytic agent (e.g., material benefits), not to mention the potential discrepancy between this theor- ized catalytic agent and actual empirical reality. For this reason, they incorporate “non- material” benefits, including “salvation” and other heavenly rewards, into their causal explanation for individual participation in collective mobilization (Hechter 1987: 420). Thus, cultural, ethnic, and/or religious identity becomes integrated into their causal accounts. Yet, the role of leadership also continues to be important in rational-choice models because political elites are viewed as being central in helping give a sense of political efficacy to potential recruits by emphasizing how their individual participation is required for achieving collective success and also for pointing out the possible other- worldly benefits of participation, irrespective of the movement’s eventual outcome (Popkin 1979: 6 J.S. Chima 259–261). By the extension of casual logic, favorable economic and political conditions make potential recruits even more prone to mobilization based on either material or “other-worldly” selective incentives (Hechter 1987). This is depicted in Figure 1.1. The social constructivist paradigm on collective mobilization posits a drastically different catalytic agent for individual participation in collective movements than the rational-choice paradigm. Instead of selective incentives (either material or other- worldly) used for egocentric individual reasons, social constructivists argue that transgressions of community dignity or violations of personal self- respect as a member of a collective group are the primary reasons why individuals participate in collective movements (Varshney 2003). In contrast to the rational-choice perspective which captures the economic and self- interested part of an individual’s being, the social constructivist paradigm emphasizes an individual’s place in a wider cultural context and his/her role as a social actor (Varshney 2003). Thus, in the social constructivist formulation, identity plays an important underlying, but not necessarily catalytic, role in mobilization. After all, an individual’s potential to participate in a collective movement is dependent on his/her sense of cultural affinity to a particular ethnic or religious group, as well as the symbols of the group which embody meaning and group pride. Yet, similar to the rational-choice paradigm, leadership also plays an important role for social constructivists. After all, it is political leaders, often in competition with each other, who can play on (or capitalize from) supposed affronts to community dignity through the symbolic content of their ideological appeals. Fur- thermore, the propensity of these appeals to be successful in mobilizing potential followers is greatly enhanced by favorable economic and political conditions which help accentuate perceptions of disrespect and discontent for the community. This is particular likely to occur during periods when the national leadership centralizes power and erodes more decentralized federalist arrangements. Thus, the social constructivist paradigm’s central catalytic factors for mobilization are found in the generic model presented in Figure 1.1. Finally, socio-psychological approaches also claim to explain the factors behind individual participation in group mobilization. In these models, identity is a necessary but not sufficient factor for mobilization. For example, Jeff Spinner- Halev and Elizabeth Theiss-Morse argue that an individual’s tendency to favor those within his/her “group” is a product of human psychology (Spinner- Halev and Theiss- Morse 2003). Individuals, they argue, tend to have more personal self- esteem if their group is doing better than another group. In fact, they argue, group identification can be created by focusing attention on even mundane differences between various social collectivities, and that one’s sense of livelihood often becomes psychologically linked with the perceived success of the entire group in comparison to other groups. Yet, as Spinner-Halev and Theiss- Morse are careful to point out, mobilization and potential violence only occur when the various groups begin to compete for either scarce resources or values (Spinner- Halev and Theiss-Morse 2003: 521). Thus, conflict is not inherently based on identity, but is catalyzed by political or economic competition. Introduction 7 Similarly, the most well-known socio- psychological paradigm, Ted Gurr’s “relative deprivation” theory, also argues that mobilization and violence is an inherent psychological response to particular socioeconomic conditions—in this case, the result of frustration emanating from the inability of an individual to achieve the life conditions or sense of dignity to which s/he feels they are entitled (Gurr 1970). In this formulation, the sense of “relative deprivation” is not usually felt at the individual level, but rather as a result of membership into a wider group. Yet, as Gurr argues, these feelings of deprivation can be accentuated (and the source of the group’s deprived status identified) by political leaders and the nature of their ideological appeals (Gurr 1970: 46–56). Thus, the causal logic of socio- psychological models also integrates the role of identity with both actual (or perceived) socioeconomic conditions and political leadership into their explanation for group mobilization. Thus, while the specific catalytic mechanism identified in rational- choice, social constructivist, and socio- psychological models are different, their general causal logic is similar to that shown in composite model of this book. In fact, the model shown in Figure 1.1 integrates many of the core elements in all of these supposedly contrasting paradigms for mobilization and internal conflict. This causal logic, in fact, finds expression in all of the empirical chapters in this book.

The rest of the volume: cases of ethnonationalist insurgency and violence in South Asia This book contains eight empirical chapters covering all of the major ethnonationalist insurgencies in South Asia. Each author provides an assessment of the causes, dynamics, and trajectories of their respective case(s) of insurgency, while also forwarding an original argument for their chapter. Thus, the substantive content of the various chapters allows for legitimate cross- case comparison and the identification of reoccurring empirical patterns, without stifling the analytical creativity of each author and idiosyncratic uniqueness of each case. The result is a rich, but generally comparable, set of empirical chapters on each major case of ethnonationalist insurgency in contemporary South Asia. As alluded to earlier, the causal logic and dynamic delineated in Figure 1.1 is demonstrated in all of the subsequent chapters. Deepti Sharma analyzes one of the most intractable, and internationally significant, insurgencies in India—the Kashmiri Muslim movement inthe northernmost state of Jammu and Kashmir. Sharma questions the utility of purely primordialist explanations which emphasize the incompatibility of Indian, Pakistani, and Kashmiri nationalisms, and instead argues that the onset and sustenance of the Kashmir insurgency is best explained by the diverging interests of political elites, combined with emergent socioeconomic trends. Political stability in Kashmir was maintained for the first three and half decades after Independence through the leadership of Sheikh Abdullah, the undisputed leader of the All Jammu and Kashmir National Conference (AJKNC), who fiercely defended secular Kashmiri ethnonationalism within the parameters of a 8 J.S. Chima united India. Yet Abdullah’s death in 1982 altered the relationships between political elites in Kashmir and New Delhi. In July 1984, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi dismissed the popularly- elected AJKNC government under Farooq Abdullah (Sheikh Abdullah’s son) for purely partisan reasons. When democratic elections were held again in 1987, the AJKNC surprisingly allied with the Congress Party, alienating many Kashmiri Muslims. As a result, a new political organization called the Muslim United Front (MUF ) was formed to compete against the AJKNC as the main spokesman for Kashmiri subnational- ism. The AJKNC–Congress alliance rigged the elections and prevented the MUF, which was a coalition of various Kashmiri ethnonationalist and religious groups, from campaigning and participating freely in the polls. The AJKNC– Congress coalition predictability came to power, but an entire generation of Kashmiri youth became disillusioned from the democratic process in India and turned toward violent channels to express Kashmiri ethnonationalism. This struggle was originally led by the Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF ), which demanded Kashmir’s independence from India. Yet the movement eventually became dominated by the Islamist Hizb-ul-Mujahedeen (HuM), an indigenous militant group which demanded Kashmir’s inclusion into Pakistan. Pakistan actively supported the HuM and also various non- indigenous militant groups committed to jihad (religious war) in Kashmir. Yet, as Sharma adroitly points out, the timing of the Kashmir insurgency cannot be explained simply by political factors alone without also considering socio-economic trends in the state, such as increased levels of education and media awareness, which made the Kashmiri youth ripe for mobilization. According to Sharma, a solution to the Kashmir problem is unlikely because of the divergent interests of the various actors in the struggle. Pakistan will continue to support Islamist militant groups such as HuM. India will continue its aggressive counterinsurgency operations in Kashmir, while concurrently holding “democratic” elections with the consent of political parties like the AJKNC. In contrast, the voices of political organizations such as the JKLF, which potentially offer the best prospects for compromise in the form of various schemes for semi or dual autonomy, continue to be suppressed by the other political actors in the quagmire. The result is most likely a continued insurgency, occurring concurrently with a muddled “democratic” political process in Kashmir. Pahi Saikia dissects the causes, dynamics, and trajectory of the ethnic Assa- mese insurgency led by the United Liberation Front of Assam (ULFA) in northeastern India. Saikia argues that while the origins of the ethnic Assamese insurgency are found in the political economy of “internal colonialism,” this theory cannot explain the subsequent dynamics and trajectory of the movement.5 Instead, it is necessary to examine the internal politics within the ethnonationalist movement and the responses of central state authorities to the insurgency. According to Saikia, the origins of the Assam movement lie in the overly centralized development policies of the postcolonial Indian state. In particular, the central government consistently extracted valuable natural resources such as crude oil, tea, and timber from Assam, without reinvesting revenues from these Introduction 9 enterprises back into the region. Saikia argues this eventually led to sense of resentment and alienation amongst ethnic Assamese. These feelings were exacerbated by the massive influx of illegal migrants from neighboring Bangladesh and other “outsiders” into Assam, which threatened to upset the region’s ethnic demography and economic/political balance of power. According to Saikia, the emerging and educated ethnic Assamese middle class responded to these trends in the early-1980s with a resurgent sense of ethnonationalism. This included creating organizations like the Jatiyatabadi Yuva Chatra Parishad (AJYCP), All Assam Students Union (AASU), and various literary societies devoted to reviv- ing the Assamese language and culture. ULFA’s leadership also emerged from the educated middle classes, although many of its recruits were from lower segments of the socioeconomic ladder. Yet, as Saikia points out, internal politics within the ethnic Assamese movement—namely, factionalization and elite competition—has defined the trajectory of the insurgency. To explain, the ethnonationalist movement split in the mid- 1980s after the AASU and central government signed a short- lived “peace accord,” and a newly- formed ethnic Assamese political party—the Assam Gana Parishad (AGP)—came into power. ULFA distanced itself from the AGP and resumed its armed struggle for independence after the latter failed to get the central government to fully implement the “peace accord.” ULFA itself subsequently bifurcated in the mid- 1990s after a section of its leadership and cadre defected to state authorities and became irregular counterinsurgents with the formation of SULFA (Surrender ULFA). ULFA split yet again in the mid-2000s with the emergence of a “pro- talks” faction, which wished to negotiate with central authorities short of outright independence. In contrast, the “anti- talks” faction continued its separatist struggle. A series of major counterinsurgency operations in the mid- 2000s severely weakened the small recalcitrant anti- negotiation faction of ULFA. Limited violence continues even at present, hence giving only a “partial victory” to the central government. The various issues which originally gave rise to the movement in the early-1980s remain unresolved. Virginia Van Dyke examines the Sikh separatist insurgency in Punjab- India, which was potentially one of the most intractable in the region but unexpectedly declined within a decade of its onset. Van Dyke argues that the genesis of the conflict combined identity, elite politics, and both economic and political grievances. These factors combined during the early 1980s, resulting in the rise of Sikh ethnonationalism and eventual violent separatism. Economic distortions emanating from the Green Revolution included an increasing number of small and marginal farmers with economically unviable farming operations. The paucity of industrialization in Punjab meant few avenues for economic security for displaced small and marginal farmers. Concurrently, larger farmers demanded increased water and power supplies, as well as other farm supports from the central government. This economic discontent, according to Van Dyke, became channeled through the Akali Dal in its agitation against Indira Gandhi’s Congress central government for its lingering economic, political, and territorial demands. The inability of the Akalis and Mrs. Gandhi to compromise led to 10 J.S. Chima further “ethnic-outbidding” and radicalization by competing Akali leaders, and the rise of a more militant Sikh leadership under the charismatic Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale. Ironically, Congress Party leaders had previously patronized and protected Bhindranwale in their attempt to split and weaken the Akali Dal. An overtly separatist insurgency ensued after the infamous Operation Bluestar, in which the Indian Army stormed the Golden Temple complex which housed the Sikhs’ holiest shrines to root out Bhindranwale and his men. While Bhindran- wale was killed, the damaged caused to the Golden Temple complex outraged Sikhs whose sense of dignity was violated through the operation. Yet, as Van Dyke explains, the separatist movement fizzled out by the early/mid- 1990s because of the increased fractionalization of the militant leadership, criminalization of their cadres, successful counterinsurgency operations, and the moderate Akalis’ return to normal modes of democratic politics. Thus a sense of political “normalcy” was re- established in Punjab without a resolution of the economic and political issues that had initially led to the Akali agitation. As Van Dyke adroitly points out, Sikh separatism is unlikely to reemerge in the near future due to structural political changes within Indian and Sikh politics, including the increased decentralization of power and federalism in India, the ability of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP, India People’s Party) with whom the Akali Dal aligns to form ruling coalitions in the center, and the clear dominance of a single moderate faction within the Akali Dal. Lawrence Cline surveys the myriad of tribal/ethnic insurgencies in India’s Northeast, which consists of seven states—Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, and Tripura. Cline’s analytical task is made more formidable by the fact that there are nearly 200 different tribal groups and sub- clans in the region. Furthermore, the myriad of insurgencies in the Northeast include not only those between various tribal/ethnic groups and the state, but also those between different tribes and between different sub- clans within tribes. In addition, illegal immigration from neighboring Bangladesh and also criminalization add to the tensions and violence in the region. Irrespective of this com- plexity, Cline extrapolates commonalities in the origins, dynamics, and trajectories of insurgencies in the Northeast. In particular, while the origins of most of these insurgencies are rooted in ethnic and/or tribal identities, political and economic factors exacerbate the prospects for violence. For example, the Northeast suffers from the lack of “political development” in terms of institutionalized processes of democratic governance but, instead, the central state has relied on ever- changing local “strongmen” to pacify local conflicts and enforce patterns of governance (Lacina 2009). In addition, the Northeast is also largely economically underdeveloped, thus exacerbating inter-ethnic animosity and increasing feelings of “relative deprivation” amongst many groups. In fact, as Cline argues, participating in insurgency, and the resultant material rewards through criminalization, is one of the most lucrative career paths for youth in the Northeast. The dynamics and trajectories of the various insurgencies in the Northeast have been characterized by the following pattern: negotiation, cease- fires or peace agreements, splits within the tribal/ethnic groups after the signing Introduction 11 of agreements, renewed fighting led by dissident tribal/ethnic factions, and subsequent efforts at negotiation. Furthermore, compromise with one ethnic/tribal group leads to reciprocal demands by other ethnic/tribal groups. As Cline demonstates, the Indian state’s approach to insurgencies in the Northeast has consisted of a combination of sham (conciliation), dam (bribes), danda (force), and bhed (splits). Cline vividly illustrates these patterns and dynamics by giving special attention to the case of Nagaland. The Nagas, who are primarily Chris- tian, consist of about sixteen major sub- clans. A section of the Naga population launched an insurgency for an independent country almost immediately after Independence. The subsequent dynamics and trajectory of the Naga insurgency was characterized by numerous peace deals and compromises with the central state, internal splits, and renewed insurgency by dissident Naga factions. The most recent of these agreements has been a Covenant of Reconciliation signed between both major Naga armed factions and the central government in Decem- ber 2011 which, for the time being at least, appears to be holding. According to Cline, while no insurgent group in the Northeast is strong enough to threaten the territorial integrity of India, the security environment in the Northeast is likely to be characterized by a myriad of continuous small- scale insurgencies and violence. Jayadeva Uyangoda discusses the Tamil separatist insurgency in Sri Lanka, which raged from the late 1970s to its demise in 2009. Uyangoda argues that while the causes of the Tamil insurgency are primarily political, there was also an underlying socioeconomic dimension. Sri Lankan democracy resembles what has been termed by other political scientists as being akin to an “ethnic democracy” (Smooha 1990) or the “divided regime” (Rose 1971) in similar political contexts. To explain, Sri Lanka’s population is about 74 percent Sinhalese and 18 percent Tamil. In addition to speaking different languages, the Sinhalese are almost all Buddhist and the Tamils are Hindu. Furthermore, both groups are concentrated in different regions of the country, and there are very few cross-cutting cleavages that help moderate the Sinhalese–Tamil cleavage. In essence, one group clearly dominates the democratic political system. Furthermore, as Uyan- goda explains, the Tamils lost constitutional/administrative protections as a minority group with the end of British colonialism in 1948. Predictably, the Sin- halese vision for Sri Lanka after independence consisted of a unitary and centralized state with the Sinhalese language and Buddhist religion as core features of “national identity,” whereas Tamils preferred a decentralized state with significant regional autonomy for the Northern and Eastern Provinces where they were a majority. For nearly three decades, the Sinhalese-dominated Sri Lankan government centralized power, introduced Sinhala- only language policies for governmental and educational institutions, and refused to actively promote the Tamil language and culture. In a classic case of “ethnic-outbidding” the two main Sinhalese political parties, Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) and especially United National Party (UNP), competed with each other by aggressively catering to Sinhalese chauvinism. By the late-1970s, Tamil youth began turning away from constitutional means for political change to violent ones. Sections of the 12 J.S. Chima Sinhalese majority responded with communal violence against the minority Tamils, further radicalizing the latter. By the mid- 1980s, Sri Lanka was in a state of near civil war with the main armed Tamil group, the Liberation Tigers of the Tamil Eelam (LTTE), demanding a sovereign Tamil state. As Uyangoda adroitly points out, socioeconomic factors contributed to the willingness of Tamil youth to join the separatist cause. First, the Sinhala- only policies of the central government effectively blocked avenues of economic and professional advancement for educated Tamil youth. Second, economically “forward” Tamil groups emerged in both the Northern and Eastern Provinces who felt their continued progress was blocked by the Sinhalese-dominated central government, thus giving further impetus to secessionist sentiments. After nearly three decades of violence interspersed with periods of ceasefire and negotiation, the Sri Lankan state succeeded in militarily defeating the LTTE in 2009. The LTTE’s military defeat is explained by a combination of its unwillingness to compromise short of outright independence, internal splits within its organization, and a renewed commitment on the part of the Sri Lankan state for a “military solution” to the conflict. None- theless, as Uyangoda explains, while the LTTE has been defeated militarily, the issues that gave rise to the secessionist insurgency remain unresolved. Adeel Khan examines the Baloch ethnonationalist insurgency in Pakistan’s geographically largest, but most sparsely populated, province of Balochistan. The Baloch people, who are a plurality of the population in the province, trace their ethnic and cultural origins to the Middle East rather than South Asia. The Balochistan region was conquered and annexed by the British in 1884. Upon the creation of Pakistan in 1947, the leader of the most prominent Baloch princely state of Kalkat declared its sovereignty from Pakistan. In response, the Pakistani government launched a successful military campaign to incorporate Kalkat and other Baloch areas into its terrority. Balochistan gained official provincial status within Pakistan in 1970, after over two decades of periodic insurrections, military intervention, and political administration directly from Islamabad. The major demands of Baloch ethnonationalists, both historically and at present, are provincial autonomy and local control of the region’s natural resources. These two demands are closely intertwined because, much like Assam in India, Balo- chistan has been treated as an “internal colony” by the Punjabi- dominated central government of Pakistan. To explain, while Balochistan is the most impoverished province in Pakistan in terms of socioeconomic and human development, it is also the richest in natural resources including natural gas, copper, uranium, gold, silver, platinum, coal, and potential oil reserves. All of these are extracted by Pakistan’s ruling establishment including the military. Only a miniscule portion of the profits produced from natural resources extracted in Balochistan is fun- neled back into the local and regional economy, thus causing resentment amongst the Baloch. Furthermore, indigenous Baloch participation in the planning and construction of major economic projects such as the Gwador Port, which is touted to eventually become one of the largest maritime hubs for trade between the Middle East and Asia, is minimal. This lack of economic empowerment has been compounded by the muzzling of Baloch political participation in Introduction 13 Pakistan’s political system, and the historically contentious relationship between the Baloch sardars (tribal chieftains) and the central government. Yet, as Khan points out, the contemporary insurgency in Balochistan is different from those before. In particular, the new middle- class leadership and cadre found in ethnonationalist organizations like the Baloch Students Organization (BSO), Balo- chistan People’s Liberation Front (BPLF ), Balochistan Liberation Front (BLF ), and National Party (NP) supplement the traditional tribal-based insurgent groups such as the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA). This changing dynamic, according to Khan, makes the contemporary Baloch insurgency much more widespread and institutionalized, and less prone to division by central Pakistani elites who have traditionally tried to divide the tribes into anti- government and pro- government camps. A comprehensive solution to the Baloch insurgency, according to Khan, would include a structural change in Pakistan’s overly centralized governmental system, a move away from the military’s domination of politics, and more local control of the province’s natural resources and development. All of these are unlikely to occur in the near future. Pranab Kumar Panday and Ishtiaq Jamil analyze the rebellion by over a dozen indigenous tribes—collectively known as the Jumma—in the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) of Bangladesh. They argue that ethnic identity is one of the major drivers of the conflict because the Jumma are culturally closer to the Sino- Tibetan people of Burma than to the people of South Asia, including Bengalis. Furthermore, the Jumma are Buddhists living in a country with a greater than 90 percent Muslim population. Nonetheless, as the authors argue, identity alone cannot explain the onset of separatism and violence in the CHT. Instead, these emerged only after leaders of Bangladesh attempted to impose a unitary construction of national identity based on the Bengali language and Islamic religion on the country. These policies included the dissolution of special regulations giving the CHT semi-autonomous political status, and allowing (if not actively encouraging) Bengali settlers to flood into the CHT by removing restrictions barring non- residents from owning land in the region. During this period, the central government also did little to promote indigenous cultures and languages in the CHT, but rather expected the Jumma to assimilate into the official construction of Bangladeshi “nationality.” Furthermore, government development projects in the CHT focused on using the region to fulfill national priorities such as the construction of dams to generate hydro- electric power, instead of the economic progress of localized Jumma communities. The building of dams resulted in flooding large areas of the CHT and the resultant dislocation of local residents. This economic and political discontent of the Jumma, as Panday and Jamil argue, gave rise to the Parbatya Chattagram Jana Samiti (PCJSS, United Peo- ple’s Party of the Chittagong Hills) political party in the early 1970s and its armed wing called the Shanti Bahini (Peace Forces), which demanded increased regional autonomy for the CHT and cultural protection for the Jumma. After years of insurgency, a peace deal was reached between the PCJSS and the newly elected Awami League (AL, People’s Party) government of Sheikh Hasina in 1997, which included increased regional autonomy for the CHT and the promotion 14 J.S. Chima of indigenous cultures. Yet this peace deal proved ineffective in permanently resolving the conflict. The AL began backtracking on its treaty commitments because of pressure from opposition parties including the Bangladesh National Party (BNP). A dissident section of the PCJSS also refused to accept a peace deal short of full independence. These Jumma dissidents formed the United Peo- ple’s Democratic Front (UPDF ) committed to an armed struggle for independence, which continues even today. According to Panday and Jamil, a lasting solution to the CHT conflict would entail a comprehensive agreement for meaningful regional autonomy with the support of both major national parties in Bangladesh—the AL and the BNP—and also all major players within the Jumma community including the PCJSS and UPDF. Prospects for this happening remain remote due to intra- elite competition within both sides of the conflict, not to mention continuing differences between the two sides themselves. Vasundhara Sirnate examines the three main “ideological insurgencies” in South Asia—the Naxalites in central India, the Maoists in Nepal, and the Taliban in Pakistan. Sirnate points out that most studies on the causes of insurgency emphasize structural factors such as identity, political cleavage, socioeconomic grievance, and/or weak state capacity. While not dismissing the importance of these factors, Sirnate argues that it is also important to consider the role of “ideology” in each movement, especially how it relates to political mobilization. Ideology, as she argues, serves two main purposes for an insurgent organization—“branding” (e.g., differentiating itself from other competing political organizations) and “banding” (e.g., gaining legitimacy in order to attract local recruits). In particular, ideology helps to explain and justify an insurgent organization’s demands, including shifting the political consciousness of potential recruits toward the movement by linking material incentives with psychological ones. Using this general framework, Sirnate examines the three insurgencies in question. The re- emergence of the Naxalite insurgency in the mid- 1990s after two decades of near dormancy, as Sirnate argues, can be explained by the politicization of those communities who have not benefited from, but may have actually been adversely affected by, the liberalization of India’s economy starting in the early 1990s. Communist ideology became particularly attractive for tribal and marginalized communities throughout central India, especially those whose lands have been usurped or “exploited” by various government-backed companies and multinationals. The Naxalites, who have united into the Communist Party of India (Maoist), wish to usher in a new “people’s democracy” by overthrowing the forces of imperialism, feudalism, and bureaucratic capitalism which supposedly dominate the “bourgeois Indian state.” Similarly, the Maoists in Nepal, who have recently agreed to join constitutional politics after a series of major democratic reforms, attracted support from those economically marginalized rural communities and caste/ethnic groups who lacked access to state resources in Nepal’s previous monarchical form of government. For these segments of Nepali society, Maoist ideology offered the prospects of increased political power and economic security. These dynamics also exist for recruits into the Taliban insurgency in Pakistan, most of who are from the economically Introduction 15 marginalized Pushtun tribes. For Taliban recruits, who are inspired not by secular radical ideology such as Marxism but rather by the ultraconservative Deobandi interpretation of Islam, participation in the insurgency offers a potential combination of economic benefits, social status, and psychological satisfac- tion. Their goal is to transform Pakistan into a theocratic state, which promises not only religious “morality” but also a potentially more equitable economic system based on religious principles. As Sirnate explains, all these “ideological insurgencies” use popular culture such as songs, skits, and poetry to link their ideology with the grassroots material concerns of the tribal and ethnic groups from which they draw support. The Naxalite insurgency in India and the Taliban insurgency in Pakistan continue to rage, whereas the Maoist insurgency in Nepal appears to have subsided through political compromise and reform.

Notes 1 For a discussion of the methodology of “process-tracing,” see George and McKeown (1985). 2 The phenomenon of “ethnic-outbidding” was originally conceptualized in Rabushka and Shepsle (1972). 3 The “free- rider problem” raises the question why would a “rational” individual participate in collective movement for non- excludable goods, when s/he can enjoy the benefits of these goods if they are attained by the group without incurring the personal costs of helping attain them. In other words, there is a tendency to “free-ride.” 4 It should be noted that within the “rational- choice” framework, it is also possible to induce individual participate with negative sanctions (e.g. punishment or the threat of punishment) in addition to positive material rewards. 5 For an elaboration on the theory of “internal colonialism” both empirically and conceptually, refer to Hechter (1975).

References Brass, Paul. The Politics of India since Independence (New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, 1990). Brass, Paul (ed.) Ethnicity and Nationalism: Theory and Comparison (New Delhi: Sage Publications, 1991). Brown, Michael (ed.) Nationalism and Ethnic Conflict (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1996). Conner, Walker. “Nation- Building or Nation- Destroying,” World Politics 24:3 (April 1972), pp. 319–355. Conner, Walker. “Beyond Reason: The Nature of the Ethnonational Bond,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 16:3 (July 1993), pp. 373–389. Eller, Jack and Reed Coughlan. “The Poverty of Primordialism: The Demystification of Ethnic Attachments,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 16:2 (1993), pp. 183–201. Geertz, Clifford (ed.) Old Societies and New States (New York: The Free Press, 1967). George, Alexander and Timothy McKeown. “Case Studies and Theories of Organizational Decision Making,” in Robert F. Coulam and Richard A. Smith (eds), Advances in Information Processing in Organizations (Greenwich, CT: JAI Press, 1985), pp. 21–58. Gurr, Ted Robert. Why Men Rebel (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970). 16 J.S. Chima Hale, Henry. “Explaining Ethnicity,” Comparative Political Studies 37:4 (May 2004), pp. 458–485. Hechter, Michael. Internal Colonialism: The Celtic Fringe in British National Develop- ment (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975). Hechter, Michael. “Nationalism as Group Identity,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 10:4 (October 1987), pp. 415–26. Horowitz, Donald. Ethnic Groups in Conflict (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985). Lacina, Bethany. “The Problem of Political Stability in Northeast India: Local Ethnic Autocracy and the Rule of Law,” Asian Survey 49:6 (November/December 2009), pp. 998–1020. Midgal, Joel. Strong Societies and Weak States: State- Society Relations and State Cap- abilities in the Third World (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1988). Popkin, Samuel. The Rational Peasant: The Political Economy of Rural Society in Vietnam (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979). Rabushka, Alvin and Kenneth Shepsle. Politics in Plural Societies: A Theory of Demo- cratic Instability (Columbus, OH: Charles E. Merrill Publishing Company, 1972). Rose, Richard. Governing without Consensus: An Irish Perspective (Boston: Beacon Press, 1971). Smooha, Sammy. “Minority Status in an Ethnic Democracy: The Status of the Arab Minority in Israel,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 13:3 (July 1990), pp. 389–413. Spinner- Halev, Jeff and Elizabeth Theiss- Morse. “National Identity and Self- Esteem,” Perspectives on Politics 1:3 (September 2003), pp. 515–532. Stepan, Alfred, Juan Linz, and Yogendra Yadav. Crafting State-Nations: India and Other Multinational Democracies (Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2011). van den Berghe, Pierre. The Ethnic Phenomenon (New York: Elsevier Science Publish- ing, 1981). Varshney, Ashutosh. “Nationalism, Ethnic Conflict, and Rationality,” Perspectives on Politics 1:1 (March 2003), pp. 85–99. 2 The Kashmir insurgency Multiple actors, divergent interests, institutionalized conflict

Deepti Sharma

Introduction On 23 March 1987 state assembly elections were held in Kashmir. The incumbent Chief Minister Farooq Abdullah’s party, the All Jammu and Kashmir National Conference (AJKNC), had formed a coalition with the Congress Party. The Congress government in New Delhi had summarily dismissed democratically elected chief ministers of Jammu and Kashmir in the past, including Farooq in 1984. Thus, it was beneficial to have Congress as a partner. However, there was widespread resentment toward the centre’s high-handed intervention in the internal affairs of Jammu and Kashmir. Consequently, a new political organisation named the Muslim United Front (MUF ), composed of strong nationalists, secessionists and radicals, had taken on the daunting task of challenging the AJKNC- Congress hegemony (Kohli 1997, p. 340). The AJKNC- Congress coalition won the elections easily, although it was generally believed that rigging was involved. When one MUF candidate complained about rigging, he was imprisoned. The candidate was Syed Salahuddin, who went on to become the chief of the Hizb- ul-Mujahedeen, the largest militant group active in Kashmir today. The youths who served as his polling agents, including Yasin Malik, also gave up on the democratic process that day and joined the Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF ). Two years later, Kashmir was in the throes of a full-blown insurgency (Ganguly 1997, pp. 93–100). Twenty- five years later, it is still useful to ask – could fair and free elections in May 1987 have prevented the Kashmir insurgency? What other factors determined the course of events? What role did the dynamics between the AJKNC moderates and MUF extremists, or local AJKNC government and the Congress central government play in the unfolding of the events? If the Kashmir problem is indeed the “unfinished business of partition”, then why did the generation with no memory of the “partition question” take up arms after forty- two years of peaceful coexistence within the Indian Union? This essay explores the evolution of the Kashmir insurgency, especially in the last twenty- five years, with a focus on intergroup dynamics and centre–state relations. It argues that the inception, exacerbation, current dynamics and prognosis for its near future of the Kashmir insurgency can each be explained by the 18 D. Sharma incompatibility of preferences between (1) an autocratic, power- seeking central government and the Kashmiri moderates who gave rise to the initial conflict, (2) the leadership of various insurgent groups that exacerbated and changed the character of the insurgency in the mid- 1990s, and (3) a moderate central government and an extremist insurgent leadership that has prevented any real progress toward a solution in the last decade. Furthermore, changes in the balance of power over the course of the conflict have shaped these preferences and the strategy of each side to prolong rather than resolve the conflict. The following discussion is divided into four parts. The first section provides a brief historical background, starting with the partition of India and ending with the outbreak of violent separatism. The second section includes a comparative critique of the competing explanations for the rise of the Kashmir conflict. The third section examines the key developments and determinants that altered the direction of the conflict, and had the most impact on its current dynamics. The final section concludes with a comparative critique of feasible solutions to the Kashmir problem in the broader context of intergroup dynamics. Each of these sections studies the (a) changing preferences of the elites at the local level, amongst insurgents, at the state level, in New Delhi and in Islamabad at various stages in the insurgency, and (b) the balance of the power variable to offer an explanation for the outbreak, escalation, and morphing, and finally, the lack of resolution of the Kashmir insurgency.

Historical background Jammu and Kashmir is the northernmost state of India, situated for the most part in the Himalayan Mountains. It shares its borders internationally with China and Pakistan- administered Kashmir and, domestically, with the Indian states of Himachal Pradesh and Punjab. The state’s population was approximately 12.5 million in 2011 and is administered as three separate ethno- religious regions: the densely populated Kashmir Valley to the north and west (with a population of approx. 6.9 million), which is overwhelmingly Muslim, Ladakh to the mountainous northeast (with a population of approx. 290,000), which is almost equally Buddhist and Muslim, and the Jammu region to the south (with a population of approx. 5.4 million), which is approximately two- thirds Hindu and one- third Muslim (Directorate of Census Operations 2011). The state of Jammu and Kashmir (henceforth Kashmir) emerged when the erstwhile Princely State of Kashmir and Jammu was divided between India and Pakistan following the 1947–48 war between the two countries. However, the issue of the future of Kashmir was far from resolved. It was at the centre of another major war in 1965 and a minor one in 1999 between India and Pakistan. However, neither war nor diplomacy has succeeded in resolving the Kashmir dispute to the mutual satis- faction of the contending states; fighting continues in the form of minor skir- mishes and artillery exchanges at the Line of Control (LOC) to this day.1 During the partition of India in 1947 into Muslim- and Hindu- majority states, the Muslim- majority border state of Kashmir became a bone of contention The Kashmir insurgency 19 between India and Pakistan. Unlike the other border state, Punjab, the princely state of Kashmir was not partitioned into Muslim and non- Muslim regions. Rather, its Hindu Dogra ruler, Maharaja Hari Singh, was given the option of acceding to either Pakistan or India. However, the Maharaja delayed his decision, hoping to hold out for autonomy (Ganguly 1997, p. 8). Unwilling to risk losing Kashmir to India, Pakistan attempted to instigate the Kashmiri Muslims to rebel against the Hindu ruler and facilitate Pakistan’s invasion. However, the invasion led the Maharaja to accede to India in exchange for military assistance against Pakistan (Malik 2002). In 1947, India and Pakistan went to war over Kashmir. At the time of ceasefire, Pakistan was left in control of the mountainous western and northern parts of Kashmir, whilst India controlled Jammu, the Kashmir valley, and Ladakh. Hence, the Kashmir valley, with an 80 per cent Muslim and 20 per cent Hindu population, was included in the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. In accordance with the agreement between the All Jammu and Kashmir National Confer- ence (AJKNC) and the Indian state, Kashmir was conferred a special status within the Indian Union by way of Article 370 of the Indian Constitution. Under this provision, it was allowed greater political autonomy compared to the rest of the states of India. In addition, the special status for Kashmir ensured that its borders could not be altered, and that citizens from other Indian states could not become Kashmiri residents or buy real estate without the approval of the local administration. As a result of segregation of the Kashmiri economy from the larger Indian economy, and in turn from the international economy, Kashmir remained relatively underdeveloped. In 1951, after winning the general elections with an overwhelming majority, the AJKNC, led by Sheikh Abdullah, ratified Kashmir’s accession to the Indian Union.2 Hence, the primary allegiance of the Kashmiri Muslims was to the Sheikh Abdullah- led AJKNC. Their support for Indian rule in Kashmir was based on what benefits they could obtain from the central government in New Delhi (N. Singh 1998, pp. 338–9). Whilst the Indian government found a way to accommodate the Kashmiri people’s distinct ethnonational identity within the broad framework of Indian nationalism, the Dogra population in Jammu and the Hindu nationalist parties at the centre remained sceptical of Abdullah’s Kashmiri nationalism (Kashmiriyat hereafter). Hence, they protested against Kashmir’s special status. When the demands for dissolving the special status of Jammu and Kashmir grew intense in Jammu and other strongholds of Hindu nationalists, Sheikh Abdullah decided to pursue complete independence for the state of Jammu and Kashmir. He argued that with the rising Hindu chauvinism in Jammu, the Kashmiri Muslims could no longer believe that their Muslim identity was protected within India (Trem- blay 2009). At this juncture, Abdullah’s relationship with the Indian state was already strained for two reasons. First, the AJKNC had passed two controversial bills in 1950 – the Abolition of Big Landed Estates Act and the Distressed Debtors Relief Act – which aimed at the welfare of the peasants (who were primarily Muslim). However, they also caused great resentment amongst the landowners 20 D. Sharma and money lenders (who were primarily Hindu). Second, Abdullah’s continual effort to expand Kashmir’s autonomy was perceived as a threat to the national integrity of India. Consequently, the Indian state reacted to AJKNC’s decision to seek complete autonomy for Kashmir in 1953 by dismissing Abdullah as prime minister, and later, by imprisoning him (1953–64, 1965–68), and exiling him (1971–75) from local politics.3 During the years of Abdullah’s forced absence from politics, the Indian state saw an opportunity to chip away at Kashmir’s special status guaranteed under Article 370. Abdullah’s successors were more cooperative with the centre and passed multiple constitutional reforms that aimed for a fuller integration of Kashmir with India.4 Whilst Sheikh Abdullah had earned the trust of the Kashmiri people as an independent-minded, unflinch- ing Kashmiri nationalist, his successors were seen as corrupt puppets of an intrusive Indian state. Consequently, the local confidence in the AJKNC government dwindled and the state’s democratic institutions weakened. The state elections of 1957 and 1962 were widely viewed as fraudulent, and the first signs of the Kash- miri Independence Movement surfaced in the Valley (Malik 2002, pp. 90–115; Tremblay 2009). Abdullah’s return to local politics in 1975 once again helped restore some legitimacy to the state government. His political disagreements with the Indian state had grown in the period of his exile. Abdullah threatened non- cooperation with New Delhi unless Kashmir’s pre- 1953 version of the special status was restored. However, during his exile from Kashmir politics, India and Pakistan had signed the Shimla Agreement, which recognised the division of Jammu and Kashmir into India- and Pakistan- occupied Kashmir. Moreover, it also affirmed that the Indian Parliament had the same rights with respect to Jammu and Kashmir as with the other Indian states. Hence, Abdullah’s bargaining position was weak, and the central government did not consider it necessary to appease him any longer. Consequently, the centre–state relations remained strained when Sheikh Abdullah passed away in 1982 (N. Singh 1998, p. 339; Tremblay 2009).

Mid- 1980s to 1989: the fall of moderate nationalists After Sheikh Abdullah’s death in 1982, his son Farooq succeeded him as the leader of the AJKNC. Farooq Abdullah was not as successful as his father in garnering support from the Kashmiri Muslims, and he resorted to using undemocratic methods to suppress challenges to his power. His decision to ally with the Con- gress in the 1987 elections was seen as an endorsement of New Delhi’s integra- tionist agenda and a betrayal of his position as Sheikh Abdullah’s heir. Faced with opposition from within his own party and from political rivals, Farooq Abdullah resorted to undemocratic methods to cling to power. Radical organisations such as the Muslim United Front, which politically opposed him, were banned. Amidst widespread accusations of rigging, the AJKNC- Congress coalition won the state elections (Evans 1999). The prevalent belief that the Farooq Administration sub- verted democratic norms to steal the 1987 elections led to disillusionment with the political process, especially amongst youth in the Valley.5 The Kashmir insurgency 21 Popular outrage against the AJKNC moderates created the political space for the rise of extreme nationalists, who welcomed Pakistan’s support in their fight against the Indian state. Soon the insurgents were supplied with arms, ammunition, and training from Pakistan. As Ganguly (1997, p. 102) notes, “The violence went from being spasmodic to orchestrated and deliberate”. The Farooq Abdul- lah government, which was already not a legitimate government in the eyes of many Kashmiri Muslims, employed oppressive means to suppress the insurgency.6 Dissatisfaction with the democratic processes in the state led to the further radicalisation of local ethnic elements and rapid expansion of the insurgent base, especially amongst the Kashmiri youth (N. Singh 1998, p. 340). By 1989, the general population in the Valley largely supported self- determination. The decline of moderate nationalists was underscored by the dismal turnout (less than 5 per cent) for the 1989 elections, even as the ranks of the militant organisations swelled with new recruits (Evans 1999). Soon Kashmir was in the throes of a full-blown violent insurgency. Unable to control the political violence in his state, Farooq Abdullah resigned as the chief minister, and the central government appointed hardliner Jagmohan as the governor of Jammu and Kashmir in 1990. Since its inception in 1989, the insurgency has claimed over 50,000 lives and has led to the displacement of over 100,000 Kashmiri Hindus, many of whom continue to languish in squalid refugee camps around the country. Could such human suffering have been prevented or was it inevitable? Why did the insurgency break out so abruptly after more than four decades of peaceful coexistence? The next section critiques some of the common theoretical and contextual explanations proffered to explain the Kashmir insurgency. It argues that the causes of the insurgency are best predicted by the increasing incompatibility in the preference of the political elites at the centre and state level, and a shift in the balance of power, which made widespread insurgency both attractive and sustainable in the long run.

Explaining violent separatism in Kashmir The last two decades saw incessant violence in Kashmir. Scholars have since attempted to isolate the roots of the conflict and explain the sudden outbreak of violence in 1989. The more popular explanations encompass ethnic nationalism, the collapse of democratic institutions, preferences and behaviour of the elites, political mobilisation of the masses, external state intervention or socioeconomic factors. Other competing explanations concentrate on the Indo- Pakistan dimension of the conflict and overlook the internal conditions in Kashmir that sparked the revolt. For example, the official theory of the Indian state has largely been that the Kashmir conflict is a result of an elaborate scheme orchestrated by Pakistan to destabilise its hated rival, India. The implicit assumption here is that the Kash- miri people had no differences or grievances with the Indian State before the insurgency began. However, it is known that hundreds of thousands of Kashmiri 22 D. Sharma civilians participated in protest marches and anti- India demonstrations in the immediate aftermath of the allegedly fraudulent elections of 1987. Furthermore, the general resentment of the central government led to the popular boycott of the 1989 national elections in Kashmir, leading to a less than 5 per cent turnout (Evans 1999). Although it is not contested that Pakistan provided material support to sustain the 1989 revolt by arming, training, and harbouring the insurgents, there is little empirical evidence to suggest that Pakistan stage-managed the initial uprising in Jammu and Kashmir against India (Widmalm 1997; Wirsing 1998, p. 113). Pakistan, on the other hand, argues that the Kashmir conflict is an on-going “freedom struggle” of the Kashmiri Muslims against “occupying Indian forces”. Pakistan’s position on Kashmir can be seen as a direct extension of the two- nation theory that contends that Hindus and Muslims constitute “two distinct and frequently antagonistic ways of life, and therefore they cannot coexist in one nation” (Ahmed 1982, p. 262). Taking that a step further, some ethnicity- centric theories claim that the Kashmir Crisis is an example of a three-nation theory, where ethnic Kashmiri nationalism (or Kashmiriyat) is another incompatible identity in the mix. Ashutosh Varshney explains the Kashmir crisis is a product of the interaction between the competing and conflicting forces of religious nationalism propagated by Pakistan, secular nationalism espoused by India, and the ethnic nationalism of the Kashmiris (Varshney 1991). He argues that the central government’s systematic attempts to undermine Kashmiri nationalism whilst imposing an abusive version of secular nationalism in the state, especially after the decade following the death of Sheikh Abdullah in 1982, led to a backlash of rekindled ethnic nationalism, now supported by religious nationalism. There are two issues with Varshney’s theory of incompatible nationalisms. First, it fails to explain and predict the timing of the insurgency. Ganguly (1996) argues that the theory of competing nationalisms does not explain why Kashmiri ethnic nationalism coexisted with Indian secular nationalism for over forty- two years in relative peace before the abrupt outbreak of violence in 1989. It also does not explain why the conflict did not break out (1) when Sheikh Abdullah, the linchpin of Kashmiri nationalism or Kashmiriyat, was successively dismissed, imprisoned and banished from Kashmir in the 1950s and 1960s, or (2) when Kashmir’s special status was steadily being pared away under local regimes submissive to New Delhi in the 1960s, or (3) when Pakistan attempted to foment a rebellion in the Valley against the Indian state in 1965.7 Second, if the definition of ethnic Kashmiri nationalism or Kashmiriyat is more attuned to the primordial perspective, which makes it rigid and immutable, the theory is also incompatible with historical evidence. From the primordialists’ perspective, ethnic identity, which is dependent on language, culture, and religion, is immutable and supersedes all other identities. Hence, it is to be expected that Kashmiri ethnic nationalist identity is rigid and not vulnerable to political manipulation. Second, primordialists contend that even though an individual may remain a passive member of the ethnic group, he/she is unlikely to ever The Kashmir insurgency 23 fight for rival ethnic groups (Geertz 1973; Horowitz 2001; Kaufman 1996). However, one finds that Kashmiri ethnic identity was never rigid and has fluctu- ated over the years. It started as a Muslim political movement in the Valley against the continued subjugation and discrimination under the Dogra dynasty in the early twentieth century. However, it was deliberately expanded under the leadership of Sheikh Abdullah in 1938 to include Kashmiri Hindus and Sikhs. The All Jammu and Kashmir Muslim Conference, which had focused on the political, religious, and economic repression of Muslims in the Valley, became the All Jammu and Kashmir National Conference. It espoused a secular nationalist ideology with the goal to politically and economically liberate all Kashmiri people from the Jammu- based Dogra rule (Punjabi 1995; Thorner 1948). Yet, in the years of Islamic resurgence in the region following the Mujahedeen-led ousting of Soviets from Afghanistan, the rekindled Kashmiri ethnic identity had decidedly religious undertones. Furthermore, Kashmiri Hindus and Muslims fought together alongside the secular Indian state to expel Pakistani infiltrators from across the border in the aftermath of the Partition in 1947 and again in 1965. However, during the insurgency that broke out in 1989, the Kashmiri nationalists drove the bulk of Kash- miri Hindus out of the Valley and battled the Indian state, with material support from Pakistan. Therefore, the theory of incompatible nationalisms, translated within the primordialist/semi-primordialist framework, does not provide a cogent explanation for the outbreak of the Kashmir insurgency. Unlike the primordialists, the instrumentalists believe that ethnic identities are flexible social constructions, that is, ethnic group boundaries are not immutable. Political entrepreneurs, they argue, can modify objective cultural markers like religious or linguistic affiliations in order to enhance group cohesion and political power.8 In addition, unlike primordialists, instrumentalists do not believe ethnic conflict is the inevitable result of ethnic diversity in the absence of other triggers. Using the instrumentalist framework, the differences in the character of Kash- miriyat at the time of the partition and when it resurfaced in 1989 can be explained as a result of selective manipulation of the ethnic construct by political elites. Sheikh Abdullah, who was greatly inspired by the Indian National Con- gress and Jawaharlal Nehru, constructed Kashmiriyat along secular socialistic lines in order to strengthen the insurgent movement against the Dogra Regime. A gifted political entrepreneur, he successfully transformed what was a religious political movement amongst the Valley Muslims into a Kashmir- centric secular nationalist movement by welcoming the Kashmiri Hindus and Sikhs as co- victims of Dogra oppression. Abdullah skilfully packaged Kashmiriyat with powerful cultural markers such as the shared history and cultural traditions that transcended religious boundaries within the valley with an inspiring vision of Kashmiri self- rule, whilst carefully filtering out religious loyalties from the mix. With the boundaries redrawn, the in- group included the Muslims and the non- Muslims in Kashmir, whereas the out- group consisted of the Dogra Hindus of Jammu, the Jammu Muslims of Punjabi origin, and the religious fundamentalists 24 D. Sharma in Kashmir, who articulated a competing concept of nationalism based on religion. Hence, at the time of the partition, Kashmiriyat was more compatible with India’s secular nationalism and federalist framework, which explains why Kash- miris chose India over Pakistan in 1947–48. Sheikh Abdullah’s vision of Kash- miriyat became considerably weakened over time when the central government steadily encroached on Kashmir’s autonomy and kept Abdullah out of power. However, it deteriorated considerably with his death in 1982 and collapsed in the political turmoil ensuing Farooq’s dismissal in 1984 (Evans 1999; Varshney 1991; Widmalm 1997). Islamic groups such as the Muslim United Front (MUF ) seized the political opportunity provided by the death of “secular” Kashmiriyat to redefine Kashmiri nationalism along religious lines. The popular resentment amongst Kashmiri Muslims toward strident Hindu nationalism in Jammu and New Delhi enabled the Islamic groups to articulate new boundaries to exclude Kashmiri Hindus. The ethno- religious Kashmiriyat of the late 1980s, as defined by the Islamic groups, challenged the Indian state’s writ in Kashmir just as the secular Kashmiriyat had once challenged the Dogra rulers. Hence, the theory of competing nationalistic visions supported by the instrumentalist framework accommodates the conceptual flexibility of Kashmiriyat and the concomitant shift in political loyalties over the decades. In other words, the ethnicity-based explanations only establish the socio- political basis for the Kashmir conflict, whilst the evolving centre–state dynamics shaped the preferences of the elites in both New Delhi and the Kashmir Valley. However, this chapter will illustrate that elite and mass preferences alone were necessary but insufficient determinants of the insurgency. The opportunity to successfully launch an insurgency against the mighty Indian state came about only in the late 1980s when several factors led to a shift in the balance of power in favour of the insurgents.

The triggers: breakdown of the elite consensus and deinstitutionalisation The special status accorded to Kashmir when it was integrated with India in 1947 formed the foundation of an elite consensus between the Kashmiri secular moderates led by NC leaders and the central government in New Delhi, led by national-level elites. Many scholars argue that the Kashmiri Insurgency in the late 1980s was a direct result of the breakdown of this consensus due to (a) centralising tendencies of the central government, which systematically chipped away at the local government’s political autonomy, (b) the Indian state’s highly interventionist policies, which upset the delicate political equilibrium in Kash- mir’s local politics, (c) the Congress party’s attempt to penetrate Kashmiri politics and compete with NC proxies for direct control of the state, and (d) internal rivalry within the NC and altered state- society relations (Ganguly 1996; N. Singh 1998; Malik 2002; Widmalm 1991). The Kashmir insurgency 25 Widmalm argues that the original trigger for the outbreak of violence in 1989 was the power struggle between the centre and the state. Following Sheikh Abdullah’s death, Farooq Abdullah’s relationship with Indira Gandhi deteriorated rapidly when he decided to support the Opposition Enclave – Congress party’s rival on the national stage. In an effort to undermine Farooq, the Congress- led central government encouraged his rivals within the NC and fur- thered weakened the hollow organisation. Finally, Indira Gandhi had Farooq dismissed, disregarding the democratic norms and replacing him with his rival within NC, G.M. Shah. Widmalm maintains that Farooq’s dismissal dealt a fatal blow to Kashmiri confidence in the democratic institutions and triggered the early violence. This led to the full- scale militant insurgency five years later. The unpopular NC–Congress alliance that won the allegedly fraudulent election in 1987 was the final nail in the coffin of popular credibility of the democratic process. Tracing the development of violent separatism in Kashmir, Widmalm (1997, p. 1029) summarises that the “political elite behaviour led to deinstitutionalization, which in turn led to populism and communalism and concluded in political violence”. Although Widmalm’s argument that elite behaviour caused the ensuing political violence explains the role of institutional decay in the rise of ethno- religious violence, it does not explain why the central government’s high- handed behaviour in the 1950s and 1960s – dismissal and the successive internment of democratically elected Prime Minister Sheikh Abdullah – did not lead to a rebellion. Ganguly (1996) proffers the most cogent and complete explanation when he contends that the confluence of political mobilisation and institutional decay in Kashmir triggered the conflict in 1989. He argues that the socioeconomic development in Kashmir, in the years following the partition, ensured that the younger generation of Kashmiris was more politically conscious and quicker to mobilise. The ongoing deinstitutionalisation and subversion of democracy in the 1970s and 1980s also created acute political frustration, particularly in the Kashmiri Muslim youth. When the democratic institutions of the state could not accommodate the increasing political demands of the Kashmiri Muslims, the popular discontent erupted in a violent revolt.9 In other words, the subversion of the democratic process by the moderates in 1987 aligned the preferences of the masses more along those of extreme nationalists, who in turn gained political power. However, the shift in the balance of power can be explained by Paki- stan’s increased ability to support the insurgents in Kashmir as with the Mujahe- deen in Afghanistan and the political empowerment of the Kashmiri population brought on by general economic and technological development in the years since the independence of India. This explanation is comprehensive, as it accounts for the timing and changing preferences of the different actors, and thus supports the central argument. Some scholars argue that socioeconomic factors such as unemployment, frustration of the middle classes, and income inequality were the actual causes of the Kashmir conflict (Jha 1991). However, there is no empirical evidence to suggest that Kashmir’s economic woes were any worse in the 1980s compared to the 26 D. Sharma earlier decades. Nor do the socioeconomic conditions of the state stand out when compared with the conditions in other parts of India. Widmalm (1997) argues that it is likely that the period of political instability punctuated by random violent incidents in the years following the unceremonious dismissal of Farooq Abdullah in 1984 negatively affected the economy; the political turmoil and rise in violence were likely the cause and not the consequences of the economic decline in the late 1980s.10

The changing face of the Kashmiri insurgency Since its inception in 1989, the character and composition of the Kashmiri insurgency have changed considerably. For insurgents, the leaders who were at the forefront of the secessionist struggle in 1989 were replaced by new actors with a very different agenda. For the Indian state, there was a single decisive shift in the direction of the counterinsurgency strategies pursued through many newer administrations voted into office during these years. For the Kashmiri moderates, it has come full circle, with Omar Abdullah in his father’s place as the NC leader and the Chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir. Here, this chapter will examine three key developments that shaped the contemporary dynamics of the conflict:

(1) the rise and fall of the Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF ); (2) the ascendancy of the Hizb-ul-Mujahedeen (HM) and the Islamist agenda; (3) the evolution of India’s Kashmir strategy over the course of the conflict.

Furthermore, it will examine the preferences of the leaderships of the various insurgent groups and the central government, and the relative balance of power between them to explain the evolution of the insurgency in the last two decades.

The rise and fall of the JKLF When the insurgency broke out in 1989, the JKLF was certainly the most popular insurgent group and at the forefront of the revolt. However, by 1995, it had lost its place as the leader of the insurgent cause and was considered a defunct organisation. Several factors led to the rapid rise and equally rapid decline of this indigenous group at the peak of the Kashmir insurgency. Some factors were intrinsic to the organisation, whereas other factors involved intergroup rivalries, the role played by Pakistan, and the Indian state’s counteroffensive in Kashmir. At the inception of the insurgency, several isolated separatist groups emerged alongside the JKLF. Each group varied in “size, ideology, popular support, military strength, tactics, and durability” (Malik 2002, p. 193). What gave the JKLF an edge over the other groups was its popularity with the masses and its penchant for grassroots mobilisation. However, the group suffered from organisational weaknesses, such as a lack of internal discipline amongst its ranks and a tendency for dissension amongst its top leaders since its formation (Evans The Kashmir insurgency 27 1999). Nonetheless, these weaknesses did not hinder its rise, as the aftermath of the infamous 1987 elections provided a ripe environment for the spread of insurgency. Previously restricted to Pakistan- occupied Kashmir, the JKLF was finally able to establish a foothold amidst the discontent brought about by the collapse of democratic institutions, and the increasingly repressive actions of the Farooq Abdullah administration. Furthermore, in the years 1988–90, there was no real check on militant activity, as the Indian state still relied on Abdullah’s administration and the local police to control the ethnic violence. Since the organisational costs were low and the level of local support was high, the JKLF succeeded in expanding the organisation with relative ease. In addition, thousands of Muslim youth from the Valley had crossed over to the PoK for training and ammunition after the fraudulent elections in 1987. They were ready to fill the ranks of the fast-growing insurgent organisation. One of the JKLF ’s greatest assets that separated it from its radical Islamist rivals was its secular secessionist ideology. A wide majority of Kashmiris in the late 1980s, disillusioned with the corruption of the AJKNC government and the high- handed intrusiveness of the central government, welcomed the idea of azadi or independence. They were, however, not in favour of merging with Pakistan, and thus did not warm to the pro-Pakistani Islamist ideology espoused by the JKLF ’s rivals such as the HM (Malik 2002, p. 300; Tremblay 2009). Further- more, the JKLF received ample aid from Pakistan during the initial phase of the insurgency, which enabled it to escalate the insurgency into a full- scale violent revolt against the Indian state. In the 1990s, the tide began to turn against the JKLF for several reasons. The Indian state launched a massive military counteroffensive against the insurgents under Governor Jagmohan’s rule in 1990, and the costs of organising insurgent operations escalated. Under pressure from a military crackdown, JKLF ’s internal weaknesses began to emerge. Unlike the seasoned Mujahedeen fighters or the HM militants trained by the Inter- Services Intelligence (ISI), JKLF members had little prior experience or training in militancy. Although the group was ideologically strong, its lack of practical skills in running a militant outfit further contributed to its decline. The amateur leadership was disunited and failed to impose discipline at the lower echelons, which were often left without clear directions. The organisation had initially quickly expanded from its base in Srinagar to the adjoining rural areas. However, the lack of internal control and cohesiveness meant that the leadership could not implement its strategies consistently throughout the organisation (Evans 1999). The fall of the JKLF marked the ascendancy of the radical Islamist groups in Kashmir. It can be argued that the JKLF was a victim of Pakistan’s strategy in Kashmir. Pakistan’s attempts at fomenting a secessionist revolt in Kashmir had repeatedly failed in the past. Hence, it was likely that without JKLF leading the insurgency, the radical Islamist groups with an overtly Pakistani agenda would yet again fail to mobilise the Kashmiris to revolt in 1989. The JKLF, with its indigenous roots, had insider credentials and its secular ideology appealed to a population that had learned to equate ethnic nationalism with Sheikh Abdullah’s 28 D. Sharma version of Kashmiriyat. After the insurgency was in full swing, the Islamist groups made progress with their superior experience in militancy and greater resources. At this point, the JKLF ’s secular ideology and its popularity became an obstacle in their path to complete control of the insurgency. In 1992, Pakistan arrested more than 500 JKLF members, including Amanullah Khan, a JKLF leader in PoK. It is alleged that Pakistan also provided intelligence on JKLF members to the Indian military, which led to the JKLF members being either arrested or killed. In other words, Pakistan withdrew its support for the JKLF when it had outlived its usefulness. In spite of being isolated amongst Islamist groups, the JKLF continued to condemn the killing of Hindus in Kashmir. Having lost to the Islamist groups due to internal factionalism and a lack of resources and military skills, the JKLF faction led by Yasin Malik announced a unilateral ceasefire and joined the All Parties Hurriyat Conference (APHC) to pursue a nonviolent struggle for the independence of Kashmir. By 1995, with the exception of HM, the Kashmir secessionist movement had fallen into the hands of foreign militant organisations which espoused radical Islamic ideology (Evans 2000; Ganguly 2009; Puri 1993, pp. 61–63). The decline of the JKLF had three key consequences. First, the ascendancy of the Islamic insurgent groups changed the character of the conflict. The religious separatism, which was now at the core of the struggle, further alienated the possibility of reconciliation with the Indian state. Second, with all the Islamic insurgent groups favouring the merger of Kashmir with Pakistan, the focus shifted from Kashmir’s internal issues to the perennial India–Pakistan dispute. Finally, JKLF ’s retirement from violent conflict allowed the local moderates to reclaim the cause of secular ethnic nationalism when they re- emerged on the political scene in 2002.

The ascendancy of the HM and the Islamist agenda The fall of the JKLF in the 1990s led to the HM inheriting the mantle as the leader of indigenous Kashmiri separatism, albeit using violent means. In spite of its indigenous roots, the HM had made no secret that the liberation of Kashmir meant accession with Pakistan. Making it part of the official record, HM chief Syed Salahuddin recently proclaimed, “We are fighting Pakistan’s war in Kashmir and if it withdraws its support, then the war would be fought inside Pakistan” (The Times of India 2012). Unlike the JKLF, the HM has the full support of Pakistan and is well organised with a strong leadership. However, it has never enjoyed as much popular support as the JKLF in Kashmir. Like the other major insurgent groups in the region, the rise of the HM reflects the ascendance of the Islamic agenda and the direct inclusion of Pakistan as a concerned party in the Kashmir dispute. For example, when the Indian state attempted to hold talks with the APHC, the HM demanded the inclusion of Paki- stan in trilateral talks. The Indian state refuses to involve Pakistan in any negotiations within the context of Kashmir because it considers Kashmir an internal The Kashmir insurgency 29 issue between itself and the separatists. The HM’s stance on the issue therefore adversely affects the prospects of arriving at a political solution to the Kashmir issue through negotiations (Evans 2000; Puri 1993). The overtly Islamic character of the insurgency since the late 1990s to date and the dominance of foreign radical Islamic groups have transformed Kashmir into another front for the global Islamic resurgence and jihad. For example, the three major insurgent groups, Lashkar- e-Toiba (LeT), Jaish- e-Mohammed (JeM), and Harkat- ul-Ansar (HuA), are all classified as global terrorist organisations by the United States due to their links with Al Qaeda. Furthermore, the militant activities of these groups have involved actions such as an attack on Kashmiri women not wearing Burqa, which has very little to do with Kashmir’s desire for self- governance, but fits into an Islamic fundamentalist agenda (Schofield 2000, pp. 182–8). On a different note, the direct linkage of these groups to Pakistan has greatly increased the international aspect of this issue, lending legitimacy to India’s claim that Pakistan is fighting a proxy war in Kashmir. An obvious example for this argument is the involvement of LeT and JeM in the December 2001 terrorist attacks on the Indian Parliament, which resulted in a massive troop build-up of the two countries along their international border (Raman 2003). This transformation of the Kashmir issue has greatly increased its international scope, even as it diverted attention away from the internal issues that plague the conflict-ridden state.

The evolution of India’s Kashmir strategy Whilst the Indian state had adopted a strong nationalist stance favouring complete integration in the period following Nehru’s death until 1990, New Delhi’s preferences in the last two decades have been consistent with moderate nationalism: actively engaging the moderates, facilitating a return to democratic norms, and effective counterinsurgency against militant insurgents. When the violence broke out in 1989, the central government relied on its local proxy, the Farooq Abdullah administration, to fight the incipient insurgency for multiple reasons: (a) the Rajiv Gandhi government did not want to undermine the AJKNC moderates by opting for direct military intervention; (b) despite their low legitimacy with the Kashmiri people, the AJKNC elites were the only moderates willing to cooperate with the Indian state after the fraudulent elections in 1987; (c) the insurgency was still in an incipient stage in 1989 and did not seem to warrant a high- intensity counterinsurgency effort. However, when the Abdullah administration failed to bring the escalating violence under control, the central government imposed direct federal rule in 1990. Governor Jagmohan, in charge of dealing with the rapidly deteriorating law and order situation, was known to be a hardliner. The paramilitary forces were given broad discretionary powers to bring the situation under control. Unarmed Kashmiris were caught in the ensuing crossfire, leading to widespread resentment towards the Indian state and increased local support for extremist nationalist groups such as the JKLF (Evans 1999). 30 D. Sharma On the one hand, this use of excessive force and the undermining of local democratic institutions seem imprudent. However, a strong case can be made that this was not the central government’s preferred strategy. Rather, it was a choice out of necessity. The magnitude of the separatist violence warranted an immediate response. The central government’s experience with the insurgency in the state of Punjab had made it cautious about using excessive force in situations where a localised strategy with a limited use of force was an option. Nonetheless, unlike Punjab, the Indian state had very little local support. It was excessively dependent on the AJKNC to govern the state and had no direct claim on the loyalties of the local Kashmiri Muslims. Furthermore, unlike the local police in Punjab, which played an instrumental role in controlling the ethnic violence, the local Kashmiri police had proven to be unreliable and even hostile to the Indian state (Evans 1999). With no local partners with whom to work, the Indian state resorted to the use of massive force. Pakistan’s role in aiding and abetting the insurgent groups also provided the necessary pretext for the Indian state to justify a heavy-handed approach in Kashmir (Horowitz and Sharma 2008). The strategy remained unchanged until the late 1990s, when intense coun- teroffensives gave the Indian military the upper hand in the conflict. In the early 1990s, Pakistan, having successfully orchestrated the expulsion of the Soviet forces from Afghanistan with material support from the United States, was in a strong position to provide effective support to the insurgents in Kashmir. However, at the turn of the twenty- first century, external events changed the balance of power between India and Pakistan. In the immediate aftermath of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, the United States led successful military campaigns against Islamic terrorist organisations operating from Afghanistan. As discussed earlier, many of these organisations were also active in Kashmir, and thus the militant infiltration into Kashmir declined sharply. The Vajpayee government in New Delhi used this window of opportunity to renew engagement with the Kashmiri moderates. These attempts included robust campaigning for state elections in Kashmir combined with moderate support using political and financial inducements (Samant 2003). The elections were moderately successful and put a democratic Kashmiri government into office. The military crackdown on the insurgents, however, continued concurrently. The central government continued with such a strategy using a combination of “hard power” and “soft power” to this day, with their relative proportions altered according to the circumstances. For example, the “hard power” component increased significantly during the Kargil crisis in 1999. In recent years, it has made more concessions to local demands for troop withdrawal by reducing its military presence and ceding the maintenance of law and order to local police (The Times of India 2009). India has remained less flexible in making political concessions to Kashmir, like agreeing to the restoration of Jammu and Kashmir’s pre- 1953 special status within the Indian Union. It has, however, participated in negotiations regarding these issues to placate the moderates in the APHC and to keep the channels of communication open. Nonetheless, the hard- won semblance of political normalcy The Kashmir insurgency 31 in Kashmir is delicate and can be shattered by a single misstep on the part of the Indian state. In 2010, the Indian army mistakenly killed three Kashmiri civilians, claiming that they were militants from Pakistan. This action caused widespread protests, which escalated into a peaceful civil disobedience movement demanding complete demilitarisation of the state. The movement finally morphed into a violent pro- independence, anti- India mass riot. Local police and Indian paramilitary forces responded by opening fire, leading to the death of over 100 protestors. The ensuing tensions were reminiscent of the aftermath of the disastrous elections in 1987. Although the Indian government succeeded in placating the afflicted families with generous compensation packages, the incident serves as a reminder of the Kashmiris’ deep-seated mistrust and the secessionist sentiment that is very much alive in their hearts (Hussain 2011). In sum, the current dynamics in Kashmir as well as the escalation of the insurgency in the 1990s until 2001 is best explained by the divergence and resulting incompatibility between preferences of the pure Kashmiri nationalists who represented the JKLF and the groups that focused on fighting Pakistan’s war in Kashmir. Pakistan’s support for the HM and other Islamist groups and its undermining of the JKLF tilted the power balance, which was ultimately the deciding factor in the victory of religious nationalism over ethno- secular nationalism in Kashmir. This development, more than any other, has had the most impact on shaping the insurgency and, more importantly, on the possibility of negotiating its resolution.

Road to resolution: issues, barriers and solutions The tragedy of the Kashmir crisis lies in the many missed opportunities to prevent the insurgency from taking root in the early 1980s and to prevent its escalation later. With the notable exception of primordialists, as discussed earlier, most scholars concur that, despite the vulnerabilities of the state’s democratic and ethno-political institutions, the emergence of a virulent ethnic conflict was by no means inevitable. In the early 1980s, Kashmir was still receptive to a secular ideology of ethnic nationalism that could pursue its goals within the Indian Union, albeit with its original special status restored. Even after the disastrous mistake of dismissing Farooq Abdullah in 1984, the central government could have reversed the direction of events and rectified the damage done to the democratic institutions in the years following Sheikh Abdullah’s death (Widmalm 1997). Regrettably, the myopic focus on power-seeking and mutual distrust at both the centre and state level led to the squandering of valuable opportunities to bolster the hollowed- out institutions and consolidate the regime’s credibility. Today, after years of enduring violence and deprivation, the secessionist sentiment is entrenched in the collective psyche of the Valley Muslims, the communal theme has replaced the inclusive rhetoric in articulating political demands, and the changed demographics of the Valley after the exodus of Hindus make the settlement pattern more vulnerable to ethno- religious separatism (Tremblay 2009). It is not surprising, therefore, that some scholars believe that the Kashmir problem is now beyond resolution (Varshney 1991). 32 D. Sharma Strong nationalists in India, however, view the general decline in insurgent violence in recent years through advances made by the military forces in the state, the new constraints imposed by the United States on Pakistan’s ability to overtly abet Mujahedeen groups like LeT and JeM in PoK, and the routine administration of elections in the state as harbingers of the peace to come. Drawing parallels with the Sikh insurgency in Punjab, many political elites in India contend that the powerful Indian state will win the war of attrition with the militants, and the Kashmiri leaders will eventually return to the realpolitik of powersharing and patronage politics. However, there are significant differences between the Punjab crisis and the Kashmir conflict. For example, when the village Panchayat (local self- government institutions) elections of 1993 in Punjab proved to be a great success, with over 82 per cent voter turnout despite random militant threats, observers in India and abroad became optimistic that the state was finally on the path to political normalcy and peace. Today, one agrees that it was a milestone on the road to resolution of the Punjab crisis, and that the initial optimism generated by the resumption of the democratic process and diminishing militant activities was fully merited. Separated by almost two decades, the Panchayat elections held last summer in Jammu and Kashmir were also widely successful, with over 79 per cent voter turnout, despite intimidation from militant groups and the assassination of three candidates in the weeks before the elections. Chief Minister Omar Abdullah noted that it was “the first real Panchayat elections in the state in thirty- three years”, since the last village- level elections that successfully included all constituencies of the state were in the pre- insurgency days back in 1977–78 (A.K. Singh 2011). Furthermore, the violence in the valley has declined sharply since its peak in 2001, with the last two years being the most peaceful since 1989.11 However, unlike in the case of Punjab, observers in Kashmir and in other parts of India view these developments with sober caution. The democratic leadership, the militant groups and other local elites openly proclaim that the elections in Kashmir have no political significance regarding broader political issues like the secessionist struggle. In fact, they consider them to be administrative expedients to handle everyday affairs of the local communities.12 Hence, it is clear that despite some similarities in the causes and symptoms between the two crises, the current strategy of the Indian state, which worked well in Punjab, is not likely to suffice in Kashmir. Looking back at the multiple explanations for the outbreak of violence in 1989 discussed in the previous sections, it is evident that the Kashmir problem is greater than the sum of its symptoms; it is both structural and ideological, and thus also needs to be addressed on those fronts. Addressing the structural aspect of the Kashmir issue, Tremblay (2009) suggests that a pragmatic structural solution should restore the “special status” and autonomy powers of the state, as guaranteed originally under Article 370. She refers to this as the principle of “asymmetric federalism”. Furthermore, she argues for the creation of autonomous regions within Jammu and Kashmir to prevent the escalation of tensions between the Kashmiri Muslims and the Hindus The Kashmir insurgency 33 in Jammu. The rationale for the structural separation and internal autonomy of the Jammu, Kashmir Valley and Ladakh regions is to prevent internal conflict between the Muslim secessionism of Kashmir and the hardened Hindu sectarian forces of Jammu. Therefore, the resulting political and administrative structure must ideally accommodate “two- level autonomy”, with greater relative independence for the entire state of Jammu and Kashmir as well as more avenues for self- rule for each of the three regions within the state. Alternative structural solutions proposed so far range from ceding de facto independence to the Kashmir Valley to permanently altering its demographics through the “ethnic flooding” of non- Muslims or non- Kashmiris (or both), thereby weakening the influence of the Valley Muslims in the region. However, the preferences of the leaders of the dominant insurgent groups, of the governments in New Delhi and Islamabad, as well as the present balance of power situation, create seemingly insurmountable barriers to most plausible solutions to the crisis. As explained in previous sections, although moderate nationalist preferences were dominant at the local level until the insurgency began in the late 1980s, this is no longer the case today. The extreme nationalism that characterises the present- day insurgency in Kashmir is insistent on complete and formal separation from India, irrespective of whether the individual leaders and groups support a merger with Pakistan or an independent Kashmir. Despite their substantial electoral victories, the moderates led by Chief Minister Omar Abdullah have not regained the legitimacy and control that had enabled Sheikh Abdullah to retain the support of the Valley Muslims, even as he struggled for greater autonomy for Kashmir within the Indian Union. Further- more, the ascendency of the pro- Pakistan insurgent groups since the decline of the JKLF indicates that insurgents are unlikely to run out of resources in the near future due to the firm backing of Pakistan. Thus, they can sustain the insurgency against the Indian state. Conversely, the active external state intervention in the Kashmir conflict also provides the Indian state with cause to harden its stance against the Kashmiri insurgents, who are seen as foreign mercenaries who threaten the national security of all Indian citizens, including the Kashmiri Muslims. In the aftermath of the September 11, 2001 attacks, there is greater sympathy for the Indian government’s struggle against Islamist groups like the LeT and JeM, sponsored by Pakistan in both Kashmir and Afghanistan. This would likely not have been forthcoming if the insurgency had been led by an indigenous, secular organisation like the JKLF. Most importantly, ceding independence to the Valley would signify the victory of Pakistan’s two- nation theory and a humiliating defeat of Indian secular nationalism. Politically, both moderates and Hindu nationalists are unanimous in their belief that the Kashmir valley is an integral part of India. They are also unequivocal in their commitment to preserving the integrity of national boundaries at all costs. Furthermore, a successful secession of Kashmir is likely to encourage similar movements in northeast India and trigger many more in other parts of the country, tearing apart the multi-ethnic Indian nation. Therefore, the central government has a strong preference to avoid such a dangerous precedent, even at high costs. Finally, nationalist 34 D. Sharma leaders in India view ceding independence to the Valley as the ultimate betrayal of the Kashmiri Pandits who were forced to flee their homeland in 1990s under threats from Islamic separatist groups (Nayar 1997). They reasonably point out that the right to self- determination of the Kashmiri Muslims cannot be justified at the expense of denying the basic rights of the Kashmiri Hindus. From a realistic perspective, the preferences of the current dominant insurgent leadership also makes the ceding of independence to the Valley alone, segregated from other regions of the troubled state, less than ideal as a long-term solution for several reasons. First, the ascendency of the insurgents demanding a union with Pakistan would likely result in the immediate merger of the Valley with PoK, and by extension, with Pakistan. Second, given the abysmal record of economic development and political freedom in PoK, the asymmetries between the Valley and the PoK parts would likely lead to further internal struggle. Third, despite being relegated to an inferior position in the secessionist struggle since the mid- 1990s, the insurgent elites like Yasin Malik and Amanullah Khan continue to command considerable local support and are committed to the complete independence of Kashmir from the domination of both India and Pakistan. Hence, it is very likely that they would continue the independence struggle against Pakistan until their objective is achieved. Finally, ceding independence to the Muslim- dominated Valley alone is not likely to be acceptable to both Kashmir nationalists and Pakistan, who claim the entire territory of Kashmir, not limited to the Valley. In addition, ceding independence to the entire state of Jammu and Kashmir to satisfy the insurgents is an inconceivable option, given the preferences of both the elites and masses in the staunchly pro- India, Hindu- dominated Jammu and the Buddhist-dominated Ladakh regions, whose combined population, as noted earlier, has begun to numerically rival that of the secessionist Valley in recent years. Interestingly, given the overwhelming military and economic superiority of the Indian state, bolstered by its firm resolve to maintain the integrity of its borders, strong nationalists could argue that the Indian state does not need to make any concessions to the insurgents, as the relative cost of fighting the insurgents is likely to be much lower than the costs of accommodating any demands of the present crop of insurgents. Indeed, India’s recent success at minimising intervention from external sources further tilts the power balance in its favour; it suggests that an extreme approach like “ethnic flooding” the Kashmir Valley might be feasible. However, the democratic institutions of the Indian state con- strain and moderate the preferences of the central government leaders into favouring accommodation over subjugation as a matter of principle. Further- more, ethnic flooding the valley with Hindus would be a direct violation of Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, unless the Hindus in question are also ethnic Kashmiris. Moreover, the relative costs of this solution increase, as the central government cannot guarantee the safety of the Hindu migrants without drastically increasing the military presence in the Valley. Lessons learned from Punjab and Kashmir should warn that a military crackdown of the state is likely to undermine the local moderates willing to cooperate with India as well increase The Kashmir insurgency 35 the legitimacy of the most radical extremists. It will also mean stepping away from political normalcy and democracy.13 As a result, a solution favouring a compromise, like some form of partial autonomy within the Indian federation, is likely to be the most plausible long- term solution to the Kashmir conflict. This solution would satisfactorily accommodate the preferences of the moderates in New Delhi and the moderates in Srinagar, even as it necessarily leaves out the foreign-based militants and pro- Pakistan extreme nationalists. An example of such a solution would be Trem- blay’s (2009) “two-level autonomy” described earlier in this section. However, even as a feasible solution, it faces several challenges. First, whilst the Valley is likely to welcome more autonomy on both levels, strong Indian nationalists in Jammu, who champion complete integration of the state with India, would likely oppose politically distancing Jammu from the rest of the country. Second, the actual implementation of the structural changes may weaken the natural administrative hierarchy by creating pockets of inefficiencies. In addition, the absence of top- down supervision at higher levels of the autonomous regions may increase the scope for corruption. Lastly, it would still not be acceptable to the strong separatist leaders, and the success of the solution heavily relies on the abilities of the moderate leaders to regain their popular legitimacy vis- à-vis the extremists, like the Akali Dal moderates successfully accomplished in Punjab in 1993–94. Moreover, two- level autonomy is likely to pre- empt and diminish future internal conflicts within the state, along the lines of the Amaranth land dispute in 2008 (Tremblay 2009). However, pure structural solutions to the Kashmir issue are unlikely to be sustained in the long run without a concomitant shift in the ideological preferences of the masses to favour self- rule within the Indian Union and a firm resolve to abrogate sectarian violence in favour of a return to legitimate democratic traditions. In other words, the local masses would need to learn to re- adopt the secular and inclusive version of Kashmiri nationalism espoused by Sheikh Abdullah. A structural solution based on the devolution of power from the centre to the state, like the “two- level autonomy” solution discussed earlier, could be very effective only when the Kashmiriyat can flourish within the federal framework of India. However, such an ideological shift in the preferences of the masses has not yet occurred. The kind of charismatic moderate leadership, which can influence and reshape the core beliefs of the Kashmir valley Muslims, is nowhere in sight. With the domination of the HM on the scene, it is unlikely that a political space for effective dialogue between the moderate leaders and the masses can be created. The murder of leaders, such as Abdul Ghani Lone, who tried to get rid of the foreign-based Mujahedeen militants in favour of separating the Kashmir issue from the Islamist Agenda by extreme nationalists, shows that extremists continue to dominate the insurgency. Furthermore, Pakistan’s preference to support the Islamist militants in Kashmir is unlikely to change, whilst the extremists remain dominant for two reasons. First, the domestic political costs of withdrawing support to pro-Pakistan Islamists groups is likely to be much higher 36 D. Sharma than the costs of not supporting secular moderate insurgents groups that do not support a merger with Pakistan. Second, a decision to defund such groups, as long as they remain powerful, would likely result in violent retaliation against the elites in Islamabad and transfer the sectarian violence to Pakistan (The Times of India 2012). Hence, the solution to the Kashmir issue remains out of reach, as there is no overlap in the preferences of the moderate nationalists in New Delhi and the dominant insurgent leadership today. Furthermore, the balance of power favours continued insurgency, as the Indian state is powerful and resilient. The present crop of insurgents, who enjoy the guaranteed support of Pakistan, are unlikely to run out of resources like the JKLF did in the mid-1990s.

Conclusion The discussion in the previous sections illustrates the central argument that the cause of the outbreak insurgency in 1987, its escalation in the 1990s, the current dynamics, especially following the September 11 attacks, and the difficulties in resolving the conflict can be traced back to the fact that since the break of the elite consensus in the years following Nehru’s death, the leaders of the Indian state and the political elites in Kashmir have rarely had compatible preferences. Like Varshney (1991) notes, Kashmir has not been a problem when the leadership in New Delhi espoused moderate nationalism and did not try to aggressively and undemocratically uproot Kashmiri autonomy and ethnic nationalism within the Indian Union, and Kashmiri moderates ruled with legitimacy. Even then, the balance of power was overwhelmingly favourable to the Indian state. The insurgency did not take place when Pakistan was weak in the aftermath of the Bang- ladesh war of 1971. As explained in the first section, which presents the historical background of the conflict, Kashmir had remained content as part of the Indian federation, despite Pakistan’s repeated attempts to instigate separatist violence as long as its legitimate, moderate leadership under Sheikh Abdullah was allowed to pursue autonomy, and Kashmiriyat as long as the demands for greater autonomy remained peaceful and did not extend to complete independence from the Indian state. This elite consensus between Abdullah and Nehru was broken when Nehru’s successors, under the pressure of right- wing groups and in order to consolidate their political power, deviated from the norms of moderate nationalism. As explained in the second section, the incompatibility in the preferences of the elites at the centre and state level escalated. The insurgency really only became possible when the insurgents had sufficiently overcome the power imbalance barrier in the late 1980s. Pakistan’s increasing power in the region during the years of the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan and the economic development of the region empowered the masses to mobilise and fight against the increasingly autocratic Indian state. The third and fourth sections emphasise that once the insurgency had taken root, there was little variation in the Indian state’s preferences and strategy. The Kashmir insurgency 37 Rather, intergroup relations on the insurgent side shaped the current dynamics in Kashmiri politics. The central government has taken the lesson from Punjab to heart and returned to the tactics of moderate nationalism by courting moderates and encouraging local cooperation, even as sustained intense counterinsurgency against violent insurgents. Therefore, the two determinants for the decline of the indigenous JKLF and the ascendance of the Islamist agenda over Kashmir nationalism were (1) incompatibility between the goals of complete autonomy and the demand for a merger with Pakistan driven by religious nationalism, which made it necessary for the latter groups to destroy the JKLF, and (2) the shift in the balance of power caused by Pakistan’s undermining of the JKLF, even as it bolstered its Islamist rival groups. This ultimately translated into the victory of religious nationalism over ethnic Kashmiri nationalism. Consequently, the common ground for a possible truce between the Indian state and the Kashmiri insurgents has shrunk further with the ascendency of religious nationalism over ethno- secular nationalism. The peaceful coexistence of Kashmir within India during the early years of the Sheikh Abdullah regime serves as a powerful reminder that Kashmiri nationalism need not be incompatible with Indian secular nationalism. The same cannot be said about the religious nationalism of the HM, LeT or JeM, where the historical precedent is limited to the two- nation theory, followed by a painful partition of the country. In conclusion, the Kashmir insurgency that began with the breakdown of the elite consensus in centre-state relations is currently a problem of ideological incompatibility between the political elites in New Delhi and the insurgent leaders who actually have the power to end the debilitating conflict. Scholars have traditionally focused on the structural element of the problem and proposed many solutions that address the intergovernmental powersharing arrangements. Nonetheless, the bigger barrier to the resolution efforts lies in the diverging ideological preferences of Kashmiri leaders, who today range from moderates, to strong nationalists, to Jihadi elements who bear no witness to the original problems that triggered the insurgency. In future years, the success or failure of any attempt to seek a political solution to the conflict will depend on whether the dominant political ideology in the Valley will return to a Sheikh Abdullah- style vision for an accommodating autonomy, or if the character of the conflict has evolved beyond the possibility of any such reconciliation.

Notes 1 Although there are other sources of friction between India and Pakistan, Kashmir has always been at the centre of the ongoing dispute between the two states. The original hostilities involving Kashmir spread to other areas in the relationship between India and Pakistan in the form of Pakistan’s support to the insurgents in Punjab in the 1980s, India’s support to Bangladesh against Islamabad in 1971, amongst others. 2 The accession treaty was contingent on the approval of the people of Kashmir, which was to be determined by a UN- supervised plebiscite. The plebiscite required under the Instrument of Accession was never held. However, the AJKNC won Jammu and Kashmir State elections in 1951 with an overwhelming majority, and the state’s legislative assembly ratified the accession to India. 38 D. Sharma 3 The offhand dismissal of Kashmir’s democratically elected prime minister was widely regarded as a violation of the Instrument of Accession. The Kashmiri Muslims saw it as a personal affront to the people of Kashmir (Malik 2002). 4 In Abdullah’s absence, Jammu and Kashmir’s Constituent Assembly amended Article 370 to make Article 356 and 357 of the Indian Constitution unexceptionally applic- able to Kashmir. These amendments allowed the central government to take over the executive of the states on issues of national security and unilaterally declare Presi- dent’s Rule in the state, if the state did not comply with directives of the central government. 5 As noted in the introduction, the MUF candidate in the 1987 elections, who was allegedly rigged against and imprisoned by the AJKNC, went on to become Syed Salahud- din, chief of the militant organisation, the HM. Yasin Malik and others, who were his electoral aides, joined the Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front. 6 Evans (1999, p. 24) notes that “an estimated crowd of 400,000 converged on the Sri- nagar office of the United Nations Military Observer Group in India and Pakistan to demand the implementation of UN resolutions on Kashmir”. 7 In 1965, the Pakistan military launched a covert operation called Operation Gibraltar, with the mission to infiltrate the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir and foment a Muslim rebellion against India. However, Pakistan did not succeed in mobilising the Kashmiris against India. 8 The instrumentalist approach argues that the differences in religious traditions rarely, if ever, lead to violent conflict. War is a product of deliberate choices and not inevita- bility between people of different religious identities (Brass 1974, 1991, pp. 18–21; De Maio 2009, pp. 26–27). 9 Myron Weiner (1963) predicted that the “elite political culture” radiating from New Delhi would eventually clash with the “mass political culture” at the regional and state level when the former’s pursuit of socioeconomic development conflicted with the traditional ethnic politics of the latter. Weiner argued that the elite centre might likely resort to the dismantling of democracy at the local level and impose its will on its state- level political reactionaries to promote its development and modernisation. In the case of Kashmir, the Congress government’s intrusion in the affairs of Jammu and Kashmir was motivated by the desire to consolidate political power for the party and promote national integration of the state. However, the end result was that the Indian state’s developmental policies broadly succeeded at the local level, although the local democratic practices were undermined. 10 After interviewing many separatist leaders regarding the sources of their discontent in the years leading to the insurgency, Widmalm (1991, p. 1025) concludes, “the fact remains that when it comes to socioeconomic conditions, the information currently available does not merit this being accepted as the reason why violent separatism broke out in Jammu and Kashmir in the late 1980s”. 11 Fatalities due to terrorist violence rose from 31 in 1988 to 4501 in 2001, and have since declined to 375 in 2010 and 183 in 2011. Source: State Home Ministry. Cour- tesy: South Asia Terrorism Portal (SATP) www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/india/ states/jandk/data_sheets/annual_casualties.htm (accessed 22 May 2012). 12 Moreover, popular secessionist groups like the HM agree with this reasoning and do not call for a boycott of these elections. Head of the HM and United jihad Council (UJC) leader Salahuddin remarked, “Municipal or Panchayat elections are just an administrative exercise. . . . The militants have nothing to do with these polls. They are not a concern for us . . . people don’t have to take an oath of allegiance to the Indian constitution in these [municipal or Panchayat] elections” (Raina 2011). 13 The Indian military in Kashmir is extremely unpopular amongst the Kashmiris and has been accused of many human rights abuses, including the rape of local women. The moderates led by Chief Minister Omar Abdullah, the international human rights and women’s NGOs, as well as the more extremist leaders, are united in their demand The Kashmir insurgency 39 for troop reduction, which has already begun in the state. Hence, increasing military presence in the region is likely to fuel popular resentment and provoke mass protests, thereby reversing the marginal gains made by the Indian government through intensive political appeasement of the moderates in recent years (Dewan 1994; A.K. Singh 2011).

References Ahmed, Munir D. (1982) The Dream of an Islamic State. In Religion and Societies, Asia and the Middle East, edited by Carlo Caldarola, pp. 261–288. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Brass, Paul (1974) Language, Religion, and Politics in North India. 1st edn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Brass, Paul (1991) Ethnicity and Nationalism. 1st edn. New Delhi and Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. De Maio, Jennifer L. (2009) Confronting Ethnic Conflict: The Role of Third Parties in Managing Africa’s Civil Wars. Lanham, MA: Lexington Books. Dewan, Ritu (1994) “Humsheera”, “Humsaya”: Sisters, Neighbours: Women’s Testimo- nies from Kashmir. Economic and Political Weekly, 29, no. 41: 2654–8. Directorate of Census Operations in Jammu and Kashmir (2011) Jammu and Kashmir Population Census. www.census2011.co.in/census/state/jammu+and+kashmir.html (accessed 24 June 2011). Evans, Alexander (1999) Kashmir: The Past Ten Years. Asian Affairs, 30, no. 1: 21–34. Evans, Alexander (2000). As Bad as it Gets: The Kashmir Insurgency. Small Wars and Insurgencies, 11, no. 1: 69–81. Ganguly, Sumit (1996) Explaining the Kashmir Insurgency: Political Mobilization and Institutional Decay. International Security, 21, no. 2: 76–107. Ganguly, Sumit (1997) The Crisis in Kashmir: Portents of War, Hopes of Peace. In The Crisis in Kashmir: Portents of War, Hopes of Peace, by Sumit Ganguly, 98. New York: Woodrow Wilson Center Press and Cambridge University Press. Ganguly, Sumit (2009) Slow Learning: Lessons from India’s Counterinsurgency Opera- tions in Kashmir. In India and Counterinsurgency: Lessons Learned, edited by David Fidler and Sumit Ganguly, 79–88. New York: Routledge. Geertz, Clifford (1973) The Interpretation of Cultures. New York: Basic Books. Horowitz, Donald L. (2001) The Deadly Ethnic Riot. Berkeley: University of California Press. Horowitz, Shale, and Deepti, Sharma (2008) Democracies Fighting Ethnic Insurgencies: Evidence from India. Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 31, no. 8: 749–73. Hussain, Ashiq (2011) Valley Victims Accept Compensation, Quietly. www.hindustan- times.com/India-news/Srinagar/Valley- victims-accept- compensation- quietly/Article1- 664528.aspx (accessed 25 June 2012). Jha, Prem Shankar (1991) Frustrated Middle Class, Roots of Kashmir’s Alienation. In Secular Crown on Fire: The Kashmir Problem, edited by Asghar Ali Engineer, 34–7. Delhi: South Asia Books. Kaufmann, Chaim (1996) Possible and Impossible Solutions to Ethnic Civil Wars. Inter- national Security, 20, no. 4: 136–75. Kohli, Atul (1997) Can Democracies Accommodate Ethnic Nationalism? Rise and Decline of Self- Determination Movements in India. Journal of Asian Studies, 56, no. 2: 325–44. 40 D. Sharma Malik, Iffat (2002) Kashmir: Ethnic Conflict, International Dispute. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Nayar, Kuldip (1997) Kashmiri Pandits: Political Games Worsen their Plight. The Times of India, 18 April. Punjabi, Riyaz (1995) Kashmir Imbroglio: The Socio- Political Roots. Contemporary South Asia, 4, no. 1: 39. Puri, Balraj (1993) Kashmir: Towards Insurgency (Tracts for the Times). New Delhi: Sangam Books. Raina, Muzaffar (2011) Kashmir Rebel Council Thumbs- up to Local Polls. The Tele- graph, 25 November. Raman, B. (2003) Counter-Terrorism: The Indian Experience. 1 April. http://southasiaa- nalysis.org/papers7/paper649.html (accessed 25 June 2012). Samant, Vanashree (2003) Free and Fair. Harvard International Review, 25, no. 1 : 10. Schofield, Victoria (2000) Kashmir in Conflict: India, Pakistan and the Unending War. 3rd edn. New York: I. B. Tauris. Singh, Ajit Kumar (2011) J&K: Democracy and its Subversion. South Asia Intelligence Review, 9, no. 52, 4 July. www.satp.org/satporgtp/sair/Archives/sair9/9_52.htm#assessment1 (accessed 24 June 2012). Singh, Nirvikar (1998) Cultural Conflict in India: Punjab and Kashmir. In The Myth of “Ethnic Conflict”: Politics, Economics, and Cultural Violence, edited by Beverly Crawford and Ronnie D. Lipschutz, 320–48. Berkeley: Berkeley International Area Studies, University of California at Berkeley. South Asia Terrorism Portal (undated) Annual Fatalities in Terrorist Violence. www.satp. org/satporgtp/countries/india/states/jandk/data_sheets/annual_casualties.htm (accessed 24 June 2012). Thorner, Alice (1948) The Issues in Kashmir. Far Eastern Survey, 17, no. 15 : 174. The Times of India (2009) 30,000 troops withdrawn from Kashmir: Antony. http://articles. timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2009-12-18/india/28088142_1_jammu- and-kashmir- troop-reduction-kashmir-valley (accessed 25 June 2012). The Times of India (2012) Hizb chief Syed Salahuddin warns Pakistan against Withdraw- ing Support on Kashmir. http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-06-08/pakistan/32123109_1_kashmir-issue-jammu- and-kashmir- india-and-pakistan (accessed 25 June 2012). Tremblay, Chowdhari Reeta (2009) Kashmir’s Secessionist Movement Resurfaces: Ethnic Identity, Community Competition, and the State. Asian Survey, 49, no. 6: 924–50. Varshney, Ashutosh (1991) India, Pakistan, and Kashmir: Antinomies of Nationalism. Asian Survey, 31, no. 11, November 1991: 997–1019. Weiner, Myron (1963) Political Change in South Asia. 1st edn, edited by K. L. Mukho- padhyay. Calcutta: Firma. Widmalm, Sten (1997) The Rise and Fall of Democracy in Jammu and Kashmir. Asian Survey 37, no. 11: 1005–30. Wirsing, Robert G. (1998) India, Pakistan and the Kashmir Dispute: On Regional Con- flict and Its Resolution. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 3 The political economy and changing organisational dynamics of the ULFA insurgency in Assam

Pahi Saikia

Introduction The decision to abort long- standing conflicts involves a lengthy process, as evid- enced in the case of United Liberation Front of Assam (ULFA) insurgency when after more than three decades of fighting, attempts were made in 2011 to resolve the impending incompatibility. These attempts show that the turbulent phase of intractable ethnonationalist conflict, if not ended definitively, seems to have partially terminated. The termination process of such conflicts entails silent endorsement of defeat, deadlock or partial victory on either side. The time is however, not yet ripe to comment on the victory or defeat of either party engaged in the ethnopolitical conflict in Assam. Nonetheless, the stark reality is that decades- long violence wrecked thousands of civilian lives, caused political instability and led to staggeringly low levels of economic growth and development in the region which persist to the present. Indeed, more appalling than these insidious legacies are newly unfolding local dynamics which ramify the polarised relationships amongst the rebel returnees, myriad social insecurities, ubiquitous patronage networks, crass opportunism and deeply embedded state structures of impunity, persistently compromising prospects for substantive democracy. Contemporary literature on protracted conflicts, particularly the one led by ULFA in Assam, overcrowds the shelves of local bookstores and libraries. By any prudent reckoning, brutal violence and unsightly war blemishes left by unyielding engagements between the ULFA and the Indian nation- state prompted a plethora of these writings. Some of the critical questions that have often been addressed by previous researchers relate to the historical causes of the insurgency. Historical accounts of politico- economic penetration of Assam by the British in the nineteenth century and subsequently by the political centre in independent India intricately examine the processes by which Assam was con- verted into an ‘internal colony’ (Misra 2000; Talukdar and Kalita 2011).1 These accounts also illuminate how colonial relationships between the superordinate group and the depressed periphery of Assam eventually led to the construction of separatist ethnopolitical identities. Some writings dwell on narrative accounts of discomforting memories and ethnographies of lived experiences of rebels, and some media accounts do provide significant insights into the nature of violence 42 P. Saikia since the 1980s. Few academic writings even sought to analyse existing policy responses. Although these explanations are worth appreciating, very few writings comprehensively analyse contingent political variables that contribute to the consolidation of politically powerful identities and in turn, legitimise securitisation of discursively important interests of subnational communities (Buzan 1998: 21–25).2 Historical arguments on colonialism and internal colonialism on the movement run into trouble as they tend to fuse ethnic identities of myriad ethnocultural groups with a singular articulation of regional identity, particularly in a region like Assam, which is inhabited by a number of culturally divergent and territorially dispersed ethnic groups, hardly identifiable with any particular region or territory. In the course of history, grievances of these smaller groups led to ethnopolitical resurgence based on putative cultural values and claims to be separate nations as they too were concerned with their share of ethnoscapes (Saikia 2011).3 The existence of ethnically distinct and marginal groups within a single periphery further complicates the analysis of cases like Assam solely from internal colonialist perspectives. While undertaking a fresh look at the existing data, this study provides answers to some important questions and adds more insights on the ULFA separatist movement. The aim is also to contribute to the brimming literature on long- standing ethnonationalist movements and separatist insurgencies in South Asia that have either achieved partial victories or have been controlled by vigorous coercion. Some important questions explored in this chapter are: What factors account for the construction and perseverance of ethnopolitical identities of the Assa- mese? How did the process of identity construction contribute to variant patterns of separatist ethnic mobilisation in different points in history? How did the state respond to ethnic separatism? In answering these questions, the chapter argues that the ULFA movement echoes a fairly conventional account of ethnic nationalism spurred by circumstances in which Assam, situated at the margins of a bigger state, was incorporated into a newly consolidating modern nation- state.4 The movement was closely tied to feelings of separatism against such incorporation. Moreover, the mobilisation revealed an expression of discontent about over- centralisation of power and disproportionate share of political rights at the national level. Despite the uniqueness and peculiar circumstances under which the movement emerged, the chapter identifies a set of causative factors that might be useful not only to explain the origins of the movement, the variant patterns of mobilisation and state responses, but also to discern some of the common elements of ethnic separatism experienced elsewhere in the world. Some of the probable causes that fuelled Assamese ethnoseparatist sentiments include rising aspirations of a politically conscious middle class along with the rise of ethnoregionally significant civil society groups, uneven socioeconomic development and over-centralising public policies. These arguments are much in consonance with existing views on the rise of Assamese middle- class, their legitimate preferences and disposition toward schism and ethnic separatism (Gohain 1973: 11–26). At the same time, the chapter argues that the variant patterns of The ULFA insurgency in Assam 43 violent mobilisation lie in different ways in which the political centre has responded to these ethnoregional aspirations in relation to changing political dynamics in the centre and the state. Unwavering coercion, strategies of inducements and divide and rule adopted by the state to a large extent shaped the character of separatist violence. Finally, the chapter raises significant concerns about designing timely and appropriate policies to eliminate the structural asymmetries that give rise to attractively dissonant leitmotifs. There follows a systematic examination of the origins, the social bases, networks and patterns of violent mobilisation demonstrated in the ULFA rebellion. The chapter is organised as follows. The first section begins with a detailed account of identity construction and the beginnings of ethnonationalist insurgency. The second and third sections delineate the contours of mobilisation and the current dynamics of the conflict. The final section includes a critical appraisal of state responses and policies undertaken to contain violence.

Beginnings of ethnic separatism The rise of ethnic nationalism in Assam has to be traced in the myriad processes in which the region’s multifarious cultures, art forms, historical geography and ethnic make-up developed over time. Although situated at quite a distance from the central political leadership, Assam has captured an enormous amount of attention from policy makers and social scientists, particularly in recent decades. Apart from ethnic diversity and the region’s strategic location, inadequate infrastructural assets, poor economic investments combined with public governance challenges are perhaps the intriguing reasons that add to the anxiety of scholars. This section of the chapter points out the necessity to contextualise and explain the rise of ethnic nationalism against the background of these challenges. Ethnonationalism in most decolonised and newly developing nations is the ‘novel assertion’ of political separation which emerged as sharp reactions to central bureaucratic incursions and virulent pressures of modern nation-state building that involved discrimination or forced assimilation of minorities to conform to the official doctrine of multiethnic coexistence.5 The discourse espouses territorial separation from the already existing state and the formation of a separate nation- state. While proposing a new territory, ethnonationalists dismiss the idea that group rights, in Connor’s (1993: 81) words, ‘ethnonational heterogeneity’, can be substantially represented and safeguarded, within the structures of the dominant nation- state. This however, does not mean that ethnic nationalisms inevitably tend to be restrictive and exclusionary. Ethnonationalist visions in Assam were unique in part due to the absence of an ethnically homog- enous group that could endorse the notion of an ‘imagined separatist space’ for a distinctive and particular nation. Mobilisation on the notion of ‘ethnic homeland’ was very much a product of constructivist endeavours. The cornerstone of the ethnonationalist movement was the pervasive notion of solidarity and social integration of culturally discrete groups inhabiting the region. The ethnonationalists tried to forge a culturally and politically composite identity on the basis of a 44 P. Saikia historical discourse which emphasised a sense of belongingness of these groups, not because of any common ethnic attributes but because of historical commitment to a centralised political structure and shared subjugation.6 Openness and sensitivity to ethnic differences propagated through a rejuvenated approach of ‘combined nationalism’ was indeed not accidental. The approach was advert- ently meant to create an effective political coalition and a strong social base to bolster the incipient claims for Assam’s political independence. The inclusive character of ULFA’s ethnonationalism highly influenced the contours of the movement launched on 7 April 1979 at Rangghar in Sibsagar.7 The movement was launched by a small group of young and middle-aged people from several places in the northeastern part of Assam, like Moran, Namrup, Titabor, Sadiya and Sibsagar. Most of them were active members of the Assam Jatiyatabadi Yuva Chatra Parishad (AJYCP), a regional youth organisation that was in the forefront of the Assam movement along with the All Assam Students Union (AASU).8 The group charted out the philosophy, ideological goals and main strategies of the movement through invigorating debates and discussions in the meetings that preceded the launch of ULFA. As far as the organisational structure is concerned, ULFA was clearly divided into a political and military wing, each under the supervision of a Commander-in-Chief. Successful military campaigns of the organisation were orchestrated through highly decentralised units of the organisation based in four different zones in the Eastern, Western, Central and Southern districts of Assam. Despite critical challenges, ULFA adopted multiple rebel recruitment strategies, ranging from ideological indoctrination to short- term material incentives to tactics like activating norms of reciprocity, which produced a membership drawn from diverse ethnic and social backgrounds.9 New recruits embraced the organisation with ideological conviction and with the fervour of bringing political reforms and other revolutionary changes in the region. Within this organised structure, some however embraced recruitment and along with it, the possession of small arms, as the opportunity to obtain power and social prestige. ULFA’s philosophical foundations symbolised anti-colonialism and neo- Marxist concerns for social redistribution and popular justice. The competence of such a discourse obviously points to ensuing discontent about socioeconomic factors, pertinently, the centre’s predilection for the development of certain selected regions while limiting the affluence of other marginal zones. As such, the group advanced the principal charges of socio-economic differences between the neo- imperialists and the regionalists with their genesis in the enactment of antecedent public policies aimed at converting the wealth of the ‘internal colony’ (meaning Assam) into goods and services not for the benefit of the region but for selected regions (particularly the northern Hindi- speaking regions). The core’s imposition of policies proposing control over the crude petroleum resources of Assam is a case in point. Die- hard proponents of internal colonialist perspectives strongly contested the central government’s decision on the licensing and establishment of the Indian oil refinery at Barauni in Bihar in 1965. The establishment of the refinery that runs on transportation of raw petroleum through pipelines The ULFA insurgency in Assam 45 from the easternmost part of Assam to Barauni, while catering to the urban- agglomerations in the northern belt of India, reveals the degree of administrative and political clout exercised by the centre to expropriate and transfer the dividends from the margin to the metropole. Further contentions hold that this not only contributed to disproportionate shares of the oil revenues between Assam and the relatively dominant central government, but also undermined local employment and income generating opportunities of the rising middle class of the satellite region. Similar arguments about unscrupulous internal exploitation pertain to the region’s immensely lucrative tea industry, privately owned by multinational business capitalists with external bases and offices in Kolkata or elsewhere in the world. Sepa- ratist yearnings definitely hinged on differential development policies successively adopted by the governing core. These kinds of doctrines on structural disparities, some of which were much inspired by neo- Marxist interpretations, accentuate the categorical levels of material disparities along with the discursive methods that were instrumental in politicising the non-elite, sizeable segment of aspiring educated middle class encountered by a socioeconomic and political system inept at accommodating their skills.10 These arguments, therefore, act as pointers to some of the persuasive causative factors which stirred up the real and symbolic grievances associated with violent secessionism. While the ideological moorings were securely tied to the thesis on ‘internal colonialism’ and material inequalities, the mobilisation strategies represented a mix of violence and nonviolent tactics. ULFA’s ideological aim of complete separation was conceived and widely propagated as swadhin Assam, a connota- tion that symbolises the group’s philosophy of attaining complete political freedom that Assam had enjoyed since the Ahom period. The tenets of ULFA’s ethnonationalism vividly reflected the repudiation of the process by which Assam was ‘involuntarily and illegitimately’ integrated, first into the British administration and, later on, as an integral part of independent India.11 Central- ised public policies drawn up in the wake of integration contributed to the exploitation of the region’s wealth and resources, including oil, tea and timber.12 Popular prose and poetry that celebrated social revolution became the hallmark through which the organisation sought to promote its ‘anti-imperialist agenda’.13 The group’s organisational orientation was entirely committed to emancipate the region from the hegemony of the centre not through peaceful tactics of resistance, which they contemptuously believed had so far proved insufficient to address the grievances about usurpation, but by means of armed nationalism. What followed thereafter was a vicious cycle of violence and counter violence that Assam had never experienced before. The orgy of callous violence, kidnappings and mysterious killings that ensued, changed the entire course of regional politics in Assam.

Regional party politics and armed nationalism Regional politics in Assam witnessed a dramatic shift in the mid- 1980s when the Assam Gana Parishad (AGP), a newly formed ethnic regional party, successfully 46 P. Saikia mobilised the Assam electorate while challenging the bastions of power traditionally held by the Congress party. AGP’s emergence preceded a phase of ethnic mobilisation of the Assamese speaking majority in Assam, on issues of legal citizenship, voting rights, identification and extradition of undocumented migrants from neighboring Bangladesh. Various ethnic organisations, including the AASU and the Literary Society of Assam (Assam Sahitya Sabha), advanced their demands for reappraisal of the electoral rolls and subsequently withdrawal of the names of those individuals who had entered the region illegally. Failure to reach an amicable solution finally led to the Assam movement which lasted till 1985. After a series of dialogues between the movement’s leadership and the central government, AASU signed the Assam Accord in 1985. The agreement marked a new phase in the political history of Assam when the central government called for fresh elections in Assam and the results showed a clear victory by the newly formed ethnic regional party, the AGP, consisting principally of former members of the Assamese students’ organisation. The AGP’s projection as a cogent representative generated optimism and its electoral ascendency further added legitimacy to the assertions articulated by the leaders of the Assam movement who believed that political participation would provide them with the incentives to represent ethnoregional preferences. The leaders also conceived this as an opportunity to forge direct links with the government at the highest level. The incorporation of the AGP leaders into electoral politics, however, met with sharp criticisms from a section of the AASU and AJYCP leadership. At the same time, ULFA displayed its strong ideological resistance to AGP’s cooperative agenda, because the former believed that this would further provide credence to India’s constitution and its legal system which ULFA strongly disdained. Correspondingly, ULFA sought to enhance its military organisation and capabilities through various means including bank robberies and ransom kidnappings, as well as establishing strong networks with previously formed insurgent groups in the region. ULFA’s military capabilities were enhanced by access to material support and intense guerilla training through networks with the Nationalist Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN), the Kachin Independence Army, the Communist Party of China and the Inter Services Intelligence.14 The government was incapacitated in many ways because its forces were unable to impose regulations on rebel activities planned and conducted beyond the limits of India’s borders.15 Besides allowing safe refuge from government security forces, border areas became safe conduits for contraband trade, potentially adding to ULFA’s financial sustainability (Vergh- ese 1996).16 The internal bases of the organisation were subsequently established in the forest areas of such places as Lakhipathar and Charaipung, in Tinsukia and Karbi Anglong districts respectively. By the mid- 1980s when the rebel army was substantially functional, ULFA engaged in several violent activities. The character of violence, however, shifted over time from selective assassinations of individuals to bomb explosions in public places. During the first few years of its operation, ULFA carried out well- orchestrated, politically motivated assassinations directed against selected The ULFA insurgency in Assam 47 members of the Congress party. Tankeshwar Dihingia’s assassination on 19 Feb- ruary 1986, in Sibsagar, followed by Rajiv Rajkhowa and Ranjit Baruah’s killings on 8 January 1987, in Jorhat, are examples of ULFA’s politically motivated killings. While Dihingia was a minister in Hiteswar Saikia’s Congress government that was in power from 1983–85, the latter two victims were active Congress members (Talukdar and Kalita 2011: 70).17 These and similar assassinations that took place in 1988 in Barpeta and Sonitpur districts were mostly indicative of violence directed not against any individual but against the political system of the Congress. In addition to the Congress sympathisers, Hindi- speaking migrant communities, particularly from Rajasthan, were under persistent siege. Attacks against Marwaris were justified as nativist resurgence against exploitation of wealth and businesses in Assam by ‘outsiders’ from mainland India. However, unlike in the 1960s, when the Marwari and Bengali-speaking communities were targeted because of xenophobic reactions of caste- Assamese nationalists, ULFA’s attacks were more suggestive of calculated strategies for the financial viability of the rebellion. This is also suggested by ULFA’s extor- tionary drive against tea capitalists. How did the people of Assam respond to ULFA’s activities? It is argued that the launching and eventual outcome of an insurgency rests on the support, commitment and loyalties of civilians, especially when the character of insurgency rests on revolutionary reforms (Kalyvas 2006). Support and collaboration even in such insurgencies, however, depends on divisible benefits or disincentives that have to be borne by civilians. Economic rewards and physical security are some of the trade-offs offered in exchange of insurgent support.18 In the case of the ULFA insurgency, although active participation came from a small minority of civilians, a significant proportion of the local population, mostly belonging to low and middle- class income groups in semi- urban areas, rendered tacit allegiance to the organisation, at least during the initial years of mobilisation. While drawing from an interesting alliance that cut across sectarian interests, ULFA assured to fulfill rising middle-class aspirations through the new order they sought to establish. The organisation gained much credit, albeit avowedly for the social activities it embarked on problems of youth unemployment, domestic lives and social mobility, more specifically the fight against corruption, drug dealing, alcoholism, the status and rights of elderly people and women both in the private and public spheres. These issues caught enormous public attention, not only because they were linked to enduring social problems of the middle class but also because of the awareness drive unleashed by ULFA through idiosyncratic ways of publicly penal- ising the offenders. Tacit compliance with ULFA’s campaigns hinged on fear, threats of coercion and, above all, the lure of collective security which inculcated middle- class aspirations left unfulfilled by the Assam movement. This definitively aligns with Tom Nairn’s argument in the context of the rise of nationalisms in Europe: ‘the middle class intelligentsia of nationalism had to invite the masses into history and the invitation card had to be written in a language they understood’. Nevertheless, ULFA steadily lost its capacity to entice civilians through its short- run ameliorating tactics primarily because these strategies could hardly 48 P. Saikia deliver any tangible results. The movement also lost its inclusive character due to emerging ideological conflicts with members of the United Reservationist Minority Council of Assam (URMCA), an organisation formed in 1986 to represent the interests of ethnocultural minorities in Assam. The rifts widened when ULFA assassinated the Central Committee leader of the URMCA, Chandra Rabha’s son, Amitabh Rabha in November 1990. ULFA’s innate contradictions – pursuit for swadhin Asom, interlinked with indiscriminate violence and extremely assertive mobilisation strategies to sustain the rebellion – weakened the approval and appeals of the movement to a conspicuous extent.

State action and shifts in character of insurgency A constant feature of the ULFA insurgency towards the late 1980s was its commitment to vicious violent attacks against government representatives and civilians. The organisation’s repertoire of activities became lethal after 1988 due to continuous selective attacks and a newfound expression of violence through bomb explosions. To cite a few examples, on 28 June 1988 ULFA launched a grenade attack at a film theatre in Nalbari which killed five people and left fifty more injured. This was followed by further explosions a month later in cinema theatres in Nagaon. Late 1980s was just the beginning of ULFA’s indiscriminate attacks that reached their apogee towards mid-2000. Simultaneously, ULFA continued its targeted attacks on individuals. On 22 July and 1 August 1988, ULFA committed two more targeted killings of a businessman and a government official in Golaghat and Tinsukia districts respectively (Talukdar and Kalita 2011: 85). ULFA’s modus operandi acted as a double- edged sword: to show indirect defiance against the government and to sustain the organisation by spreading fear and terror amongst civilians. Indeed, coincidentally, the proliferation of ULFA’s terror tactics occurred at a time when Prafulla Mahanta’s AGP government, which came to power with 34.54 per cent of the votes in 1985, was trying to establish its hold in the state legislature. The newly elected government, however, could not make significant strides in delivering the most crucial political goods – to safeguard ethnoregionalist claims together with eliminating the enunciated threats to the cultural security of the Assamese people, which were nonetheless adopted as the party’s main electoral goals. At the same time, AGP’s government showed signs of incipient weakness in curbing ULFA’s rising militarism, as a result of which the levels and intensity of insurgent violence increased. If we look at conventional writings on state capabilities, a sharp increase in the levels and intensity of internal political violence caused by civil war or insurgency may be an indication of a state’s weakening apparatus strongly manifested by its incapacity to eliminate the risks related to the physical, economic and political security of civilians. This phenomenon has been clearly brought out in the writings on the domestic and regional security of weak states in South Asia. As T.V. Paul argues, if levels of violence rise precipitously because of conflicts or outright civil war, the state is clearly crumbling. This is directly or indirectly The ULFA insurgency in Assam 49 related to issues of human security, as he states that the probability of state failure increases as human security levels decline. States can play significant roles in preventing internal political violence in two different ways: through organisational capacity and an effective political system. Scholars arguing from the resource mobilisation perspective, recognise that a ‘large and well- equipped military and bureaucratic organisation’ empow- ers the state with the institutional capacity to gather resources to strongly avert the escalation of violent insurgencies (Paul 2010: 54). Others, arguing from a more Weberian perspective, call for the promotion of peaceful social relations through an effective legal and political system (Paul 2010: 55). Still others, like Rotberg, argue that a state’s strength or its fragility can be measured on the basis of its performances in terms of providing political goods to its citizens (Rotberg 2003).19 Government action in the Indian context has exhibited an imprecise mix of all these elements. Precisely, state governments in Assam proved to be highly limited in institutional capacities to eliminate the underlying conditions that contributed to ethnonationalist violence. Political elites of the region instead used regional and ethnic identities to secure political positions, sharpening group divisions and ethnic imbalances. In particular reference to policy preferences on internal political violence, one can argue that the Indian government initially sloughed off the ULFA as a ‘terrorist organisation’, portraying it as militarily led by a section of misguided youth, without much popular appeal. As a result, a timely response to the problem was further delayed. The AGP government, however, fully appraised the situation, but showed initial reluctance to respond either through concessions or aggressive methods. Application of force against ULFA would have been counterproductive, partly because of AGP’s shared, albeit sketchy concerns about Assamese ethnonationalism. Thus, in 1985 when the AGP faced the electorate for the first time, and later in 1996, ULFA stood at the forefront of campaigns, organising public rallies in support of the AGP. The AGP conceivably owed part of its electoral victories to ULFA, which is why the AGP leadership tended to overlook ULFA’s subversive activities, at least in the 1980s. More notably, AGP’s indifferent policies coincided with a period of flux and instability in the central political leadership, when the Congress received a massive drubbing in the ninth parliamentary elections. Long- standing Congress dominance was relentlessly challenged by V.P. Singh, who formed a government with an interesting amalgamation of regional parties including the AGP, with outside support from the BJP and left-leaning parties. The National Front government’s partnership with the AGP inexorably constrained the central government’s taking any counteractive measures against ULFA. The AGP’s apathetic attitude further strengthened ULFA’s predisposition to prove its status as the ‘real vanguard’ of Assamese nationalism through pronounced militarism. Singh’s government was, however, outvoted in November 1990 by Chandra Shekhar who altered the policy of indifference to excessive intervention (Hard- grave and Kochanek 1999).20 The most decisive move endorsed by the Congress- backed government was to depose the AGP government and enforce Article 356 50 P. Saikia on grounds of deterioration of law and order in the state. A series of anti-rebel strategies henceforth aimed at weeding out the ULFA insurgency, stregthening the predisposition towards soft authoritarianism. Operation Bajrang launched on 27 November 1990 was a manifestation of central government’s combative attempts to militarily obliterate the ULFA. The operation was, however, highly unsuccessful in curbing ULFA’s insurgent activities. One of the biggest hurdles faced by the state forces during this campaign was to decimate the civilian bases of the insurgents. Lack of accurate information and of an intelligence network at the grassroots level posed insurmountable difficulties in identification of the rebels and their internal hideouts. Credible reports in local print media revealed the surrender and arrests of suspects and ULFA cadres, but mostly occupying the middle and lower level of the organisational hierarchy, leaving untouched the topmost leadership, which also demonstrated the army’s inability to wholly undermine the group’s internal networks and military capability. The operation was finally called off in May 1991. Army withdrawal came in the wake of the leader of state Congress Hiteswar Saikia’s decision to face the electorate. Congress’s decision came at a time when its rival, the AGP, showed imminent signs of internal factionalism. In addition to inbred strains within the party, AGP’s feckless performance and credibility deficit enhanced the risks of potential penalties through voter control in the legislative elections of 1990 (Ferejohn 1995).21 On 30 June 1991, Congress won the elections and emerged with promises for restoration of individual liberties and normalising the state’s security situation. ULFA, on its part, showed intransigence and indirect defiance towards Congress’s electoral victory by abducting important officials of public institutions, such as T.S. Raju, an Oil and Natural Gas Corporation (ONGC) engineer, and Sergei Grishchenko, a Russian engineer working with Coal India Limited. These abductions were also used as a bargaining tool in exchange for the release of all the insurgent suspects and ULFA cadres arrested during the counterinsurgency campaign.22 The government granted the discharge of more than 400 prisoners. However, government’s refusal to accept all the terms led to the retaliatory murder of the two hostages, thus altering Saikia government’s policy towards the insurgency. Assam’s status as a counterinsurgency zone was restored shortly after these killings with the sta- tioning of additional combat forces and the enforcement of more severe anti- insurgency campaigns like Operation Rhino, conducted during the Saikia regime from September 1991 to early 1992, followed by another significant phase of repressive policies when AGP regained its lost power in 1996. These operations unfolded developments which transformed the entire course of the ULFA insurgency. Two things altered the course of insurgency: effective counterinsurgency and manoeuvering tactics adopted by the government.

Factionalisation: changing dynamics of insurgency One of the most notable challenges in counterinsurgency operations is to deter- mine the factors that lead to the success or failure of those operations. Tactical The ULFA insurgency in Assam 51 problems of identification and information often drive the state military to use indiscriminate ways to eradicate the insurgents. Recent assessments of counterinsurgency operations have identified important strategies, like acquiring collaboration of the local population or insurgent defectors. While making up for the tactical imperfections of the first phase of counterinsurgency, Operation Rhino instituted improvised and more effective military strategies. The government deployed nearly 40,000 active soldiers from the mountain divisions in at least ten sensitive districts of Upper Assam and cordoned off important routes to neighbouring states. Strategic steps were taken to augment army surveillance in the peripheral regions bordering Bangladesh and Myanmar (Chaterjee 1994: 374). The Indian army’s objective was to gain complete control of the paramilitary and state police units and to implement the operations through a better coordinated local intelligence network. Gaining access to civilian networks by means of intimidation and massive coercion was an important dimension of these measures. Indeed, the operations were marked by an inordinate number of atrocities committed against civilians. In spite of this omission, state forces made significant progress in removing ULFA from several key locations.23 By mid- November, almost 150 ULFA rebels, including Heerakjyoti Mahanta, the Deputy Chief Commander of the armed wing of ULFA, were captured and more than 700 rebels were forced to surrender. However, topmost leaders like Paresh Barua, the Commander- in-Chief of the group, along with his close associates, managed to escape the military onslaughts. Baruah successfully fled for safe haven to neighbouring Bangladesh, the most supportive insurgent sanctuary. The state was able to dismantle ULFA’s fighting capabilities to a significant extent not just because of its aggressive sweeping operations but because of shrewd engineering tactics, most notably, the calculated accommodation of rebels, by persuasive as well as coercive means devised by the Saikia government. This strategy manifested most obviously in the factionalisation of ULFA and the emergence of ‘Surrendered ULFA’ (SULFA), a group of defecting ULFA leaders who revealed their willingness to surrender in exchange for material bounties and physical protection assured by the government (Lidow 2011).24 Although SULFA began as a fringe group with little prospect of survival without state patronage, they eventually created a de facto separate space, by surreptitiously collaborating with state bureaucrats and politicians in quasi- legal businesses. The outcome was intensive polarisation and ideological differences within ULFA. Moreover, the crusade of swadhin Asom as envisaged by ULFA became impracticable once the practice of political and economic pay-offs offered to SULFA became institutionalised. Another important development closely related to factionalism which contributed, although indirectly, to attenu- ate ULFA’s original project of separatism was the battle between the defectors and the armed faction for opportunistic links with the Congress and AGP. The battle between the competing factions became intense and reached the surface before and during the Assam elections of 1996, when SULFA provided substantial information on the location and bases of the armed faction. In contrast, their 52 P. Saikia adversaries canvassed support in favour of AGP who challenged the Congress and bagged almost fifty-nine contested seats. AGP’s success in these elections hinged on several factors: the sudden demise of Hiteswar Saikia in 1996; support from Muslim voters, which became quite conspicuous after AGP abandoned the issue of illegal migrants from its election manifesto in a bid to woo the Muslim minorities; promises of human rights protection; withdrawing state armed forces and abrogating ‘black laws’ such as the Armed Forces (Special) Powers Act, the Terrorist and Disruptive Activities (Pre- vention) Act and the Assam Disturbed Areas Act, since these legislations allowed extra-legal powers to the state army; and, more particularly, effective anti- Congress campaigning by local print media and the AGP, assisted by ULFA’s armed cell, on corruption issues and human rights abuses.25 Post- election, ULFA and AGP’s bonhomie was rather short- lived due to their uncompromising attitudes and emerging dissensions. Their unique relationship eventually ended in a fiasco when ULFA made an assassination attempt on Pra- fulla Mahanta in June 1997.26 Although Mahanta survived the attack, his overall approach shifted to annihilating the forces like ULFA that were ardently challenging the ruling government. Assam thus entered into another phase of a severe counterinsurgency campaign which left lasting impacts on the functioning of political parties and the state of civilian security. Irrespective of the costs incurred by civilians, the government’s approach towards insurgency was irreversible and it ultimately yielded results. In addition to the renunciation of violence by nearly 1500 ULFA cadres, from 1998 to 2001, Assam witnessed a spate of some of the most controversial and mysterious kidnappings, assaults, death threats and slaughter of individuals, identified by local media as relatives of ULFA rebels and members of organisations like AJYCP. The killings were conducted on the basis of unsubstantiated charges, for instance, sympathising or collaborating with the insurgents.27 ULFA chairman Arabinda Rajkhowa’s brother was killed in August 1998 during the course of these killings. This was followed by another incident, the shadowy killing of Mithinga Daimary’s entire family. The nature of these killings were described by High Court Judge K.N. Saikia’s inquiry Commission report in these words: ‘The killings were carried out by masked men who would knock at the door to wake up the inmates of the house and then drag them and shoot them dead or take them away and secretly kill and throw their bodies somewhere’ (Talukdar et al. 2009). SULFA with the backing of state police officials was suspected to be behind these incidents. As a retaliatory move, from October to December 2000, ULFA stepped up its violence, by selectively targeting non- Assamese civilians at several places including Sadiya, Tinsukia and Dibrugarh. The victims were identified as Hindi- speaking communities from Bihar and Rajasthan, Nepalis as well as Bengalis.28 ULFA’s selective killings were directed to impose indirect costs on the state.29 Immediately after these incidents, SULFA attacked Paresh Baruah’s ancestral place in retribution. This was followed by Deepak Choudhury’s murder in Nalbari on 8 December 2000. Choudhury was the brother of Sasadhar, The ULFA insurgency in Assam 53 ULFA’s Foreign Secretary (Prakash 2008: 226). ULFA retaliated by killing several members of the group of defectors. In January 2001, Avinash Bordoloi and his associates were killed by ULFA in their agricultural farm in Nalbari.30 These killings and counter- killings worsened the acerbic relationship between the two groups, concomitantly allowing the state to entice and exploit the antag- onisms and internal contradictions within ULFA for further insurgent defections. It is less clear whether the divide and conquer strategies weakened ULFA’s capabilities but the costs incurred by Assam were huge as they created severe dilemmas of socio- political order as well as individual liberties. In short, both the Congress and AGP floundered heavily in their commitments toward restoring substantive claims for democratic rights and societal security. Smouldering resentments brewing since the 1990s led to the overthrow of the Congress, but AGP was given another chance to prove its legitimacy. Yet ironically, the latter’s disastrous conduct during Mahanta’s second regime received a rebuff when the party dramatically lost the chances of being re-elected in the state elections of May 2001.31 Congress, headed by Tarun Gogoi, benefited the most from the anti- incumbency.32 After Gogoi became the Chief Minister, the state government started a crusade designed at mobilising public opinion against long- standing insurgent violence in Assam. The rebels responded in 26 December 2003 when Arabinda Rajkhowa publicly expressed the organisation’s willingness to enter into conditional negotiations with the government. The two parties failed to negotiate on the sticking points: the venue of talks, which the ULFA proposed to be held outside India, the issue of independent Assam and the issue of third-party, i.e. United Nations, intervention in the dialogue.33 Three things inevitably prompted the ULFA to extend its offer of talks in 2003: first, internal contradictions over the issue of Assam’s sovereignty, second, mounting public pressures and, third, aggressive rounds of state coercion in 2003 through ‘Operation Flush Out’ and ‘Operation All Clear’. These were joint offensives launched by the Royal Bhutanese army together with the Indian army to quash the ULFA military training bases in the southern districts and forest areas of Bhutan. ULFA received a major blow in the wake of these operations when Bhimkanta Buragohain, a prominent founding member and political advisor of the organisation, popularly known as ‘mama’ (which means uncle), the publicity officer, Mithinga Daimary, and nearly sixty rebels were captured and handed over to the Indian army. Following the repression, ULFA resumed intense indiscriminate violence against civilians. On 15 August 2004, ULFA exploded a bomb at the Independence Day celebration held at Dhemaji College. An estimated thirteen people including school children were killed in the explosion.34 Peace negotiations therefore remained suspended until September 2005, when the Peoples’ Consultative Group (PCG), an eleven member delegation formally instituted by ULFA, made fresh attempts to bring about a peaceful dialogue.35 Nearly three rounds of talks were held from October 2005 to June 2006 amid continuing clashes between the ULFA and the security forces. Apart from core issues, ULFA underlined three indispensable conditions for facilitating peaceful 54 P. Saikia dialogue: the discharge of five central committee members of ULFA from the prison cells, accessible information on the whereabouts of ULFA rebels who went missing after Operation All Clear and a government assurance to suspend army operations in the Dibru- Saikhowa national park in the eastern part of Assam.36 The central government expressed its willingness to consider the release of ULFA members if the organisation credibly committed to suspend its violence and if the top ULFA leaders provided a written statement that they would enter into direct dialogue. At the same time, the government reiterated its disapproval on the issue of secession. Barely a few weeks of ceasefire had passed since the third round of talks were held with PCG when the government reinstated its hardline position based on Union Ministry of Home Affairs’ findings that ULFA had been continuously making preparations for further hostilities by recruiting unemployed youths and setting up training camps in the deep forest areas of Assam.37 The talks finally ended in a debacle and PCG withdrew from the discussions while protesting against the resumption of violent offensives by the government. PCG’s withdrawal was met with concern by civilians across the board, besides allegations from each of the contending parties that the other side was responsible for impeding the process of dialogue. PCG’s failed attempts led to a revival of violence which continued throughout 2006, 2007 and 2008 when Assam witnessed a flurry of grenade explosions allegedly conducted by ULFA. The serial blasts of 30 October 2008 that rocked several places in Guwahati, Barpeta and Bongaigaon districts, which reportedly killed more than seventy people and injured hundreds are just a few examples of horrendous bombings and violence involving ULFA in late 2000.38 Although the ups and downs of insurgent activities continued, these incidents proved to be calamitous for ULFA. Dwindling civilian support for the group along with intensified public pressure for conciliation and dramatic shifts in Bangladesh’s policies altogether worked against ULFA’s ambitions. Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s assurance and commitment to dissuade any anti-India activities from its territory yielded decisive results when almost a year after her resumption of office, in November 2009, ULFA’s foreign secretary, Sasha Choudhury, and finance secretary, Chitraban Hazarika, were arrested in Bangladesh. Subsequently, on 4 December 2009 ULFA’s Chairman, Arabinda Rajkhowa, and deputy commander-in-chief, Raju Baruah, were arrested and handed over to the Indian security forces. The ULFA leadership’s overture to declare a unilateral ceasefire and seek peaceful negotiations to the long- standing rebellion came in the wake of these arrests when the 28th battalion of ULFA sought peace talks with the Centre provided the talks were held in ‘a conducive and honorable environment’. Consequentially, on 5 February 2011, the pro- talk faction formally announced its decision to hold unconditional talks with the Indian government.39 Since then, the contending parties have held a series of discussions on certain sensitive issues like ‘safe guarding the identity and rights of the indigenous people of Assam, peace and development, surrender of arms and ammunition and complete halt of army operations against the pro- talk faction.’40 Although the most controversial issue of independence has been withdrawn from the agenda by The ULFA insurgency in Assam 55 pro- dialogue ULFA leaders, the relatively positive tones in the recent meetings have allowed unprecedented windows of opportunity for a negotiated settlement to resolve the long-standing conflict.

Peace at last? Challenges ahead The analysis provided in this chapter tends to support the claims that separatist ethnonationalism remained a strong political force in Assam in the 1990s. Public avowal of swadhin Asom, complete independence from the Indian state served to underscore the basic dissimilarities and disgruntlement of the secessionist group with the integrationists. Although public debates on complete separation are shrouded in ambiguity, the serious indictment brought by the separatists against deliberative public policies shaping ethnoregional and socioeconomic disparities lies at the bottom of much of the acrimony against the highly centralised state, the ethnically different metropole. That the latter maintained its privileges was typified by at least two things: immense control wielded over the structural arrangements of the periphery and disproportionate allocation of the region’s material prosperity. Far from removing the disparities, imposition of centralised policies had an adverse impact on the opportunities of occupational as well as social mobility of the region’s constituents. Additionally, enlargement of the provincial state apparatus did not necessarily coincide with the extension of constituents’ substantial citizenship rights, which, in turn, tended to reinforce the role of ethnonational identity. The separatists attempted to make the most out of this shortcoming, particularly by evoking violent nationalism as the goal and basis of yearnings for independence. As presented in this chapter, although publicly imperceptible, tacit support for this kind of nationalism remained quite entrenched, perhaps in foreseeing that the regional leadership, granted a democratic mandate as potential alternative, would harmonise inter-ethnic and regional disparities. Some within this new genre of ethnoregional leadership were accorded the noble task of amelioration through regular democratic procedures. The empirical analysis indicates that the AGP, which emerged out of the ethnic movement against Bangladeshi foreign nationals in the early 1980s, garnered spectacular political support, especially for its Assamese nationalist overtones and its assurances of fulfilling long- desired regional expectations. Ironically, in the face of rising incongruities between the ‘moderate nationalists’ and the ‘separatists’, AGP’s electoral strategy turned out to be futile in obtaining a secure foothold because of the leadership’s increasing appetite for short-term material incentives and in- party tensions. Above all else, AGP’s failure to mitigate the violent excesses caused by both the subversive and anti- subversive campaigns aggravated the uncertainties of societal security, and in turn, proved fatal to the party. The party’s degeneration became very obvious from successive electoral debacles since the late 1990s. Riding a wave of anti-incumbency, the Congress advocated its own security doctrine, but instead of improving the deteriorating security conditions, Con- gress’s soft authoritarianism enhanced the practices of coercive silencing of its 56 P. Saikia opposition and created a culture of impunity for political brutalities. What perhaps sustains the dilemmas of intra-social security in the state is the persistent dependence of the regime on ad interim control measures conveniently accomplished by employing its most virulent divisive strategies. The ideological polarisation institutionalised between the ULFA and SULFA under the aegis of the Congress regime certainly undermined the secessionist violence, but these fac- tionalising policies further contributed to the state’s precarious security situation. Public yearnings for a settlement to the long-drawn-out separatist insurgency hastened the peace attempts by constituting the PCG. The complex processes of political bargaining between the ULFA- sponsored PCG and the Indian state that ensued after the commissioning of PCG nonetheless revealed a more nuanced picture of half- hearted intentions and lack of tenable commitments to perpetuate peace. The literature on conflict resolution suggests that a peace process is asus- tained effort to negotiate a lasting solution to a protracted conflict. The process involves strategic interactions and bargains – not only between the state and former insurgents but also within the insurgent leadership – that can shape future political developments because the latter entity tends to encompass competing factions each vying to establish credentials as authorised representatives based on the expected utility of the strategies chosen. Recent developments geared towards peace with ULFA fostered profound optimism for prospects of settlement of the armed ethnonationalist movement. Equally heartening are the reintegration plans through tangible economic state assistance to create productive positions for ex- rebels.41 Without giving the benefit of doubt, these short-term conversion plans could easily turn out to be a window- dressing exercise, unless effective conversion is actualised at the political and community levels; this is perhaps an indomitable challenge in a socio-political structure plagued by social capital deficiencies (fallout of soft autocratic regime) and entrenched patronage networks nurtured by a highly corrupt and powerful state elite to operate illegal parasitic economic activities in which non- state actors, including ex- combatants, equally serve as the stakeholders.42 It is probably no coincidence that, in a region like Assam and the rest of the far eastern states in India, an enduring peace, pref- erably tied to notions of social justice, rule of law and substantive citizenship, is a far cry both for the violators or the sponsors of peace, certainly because of the continuous torrent of economic grants (creating viability for a parasitic economy functioning in parallel) and military prowess that the entire region had been entitled to on the basis of underdevelopment and violent insurgencies. Moreover, active operation of the peace rejectionists and changing local dynamics with embryonic linkages between Paresh Baruah’s rejectionist group and the Naxal- Maoists seeking entry into Assam, sends cautionary signals to the negotiators as they potentially increase the risks of spoiler attacks.43 These developments may not be ignored by the sponsors of peace however; they augment significant doubts on the legitimate termination of chronic violence in weak and non- performing states like Assam. The ULFA insurgency in Assam 57 Notes 1 Conventional theories argue that an internal colony exists to the extent that a richer and culturally dominant core exploits and dominates an ethnically identified periphery. Cultural subordination and economic exploitation provokes ethnic regionalism and conflict between the core and an ethnically distinct periphery (Hechter 1975). Pre- dominance of multiethnic aspects and the absence of a single ethnic group representing the dominant ‘core’ in post- independent India does not dampen the interest of scholars in applying these theories to ethnic contention in Assam. See Misra 2000; Talukdar and Kalita 2011. 2 Politically contingent factors may include middle-class preferences and soft authoritarian state policies. On securitisation, see Buzan et al. 1998: 21–25. In Ole Wæver’s terms, to securitise is to present something as an existential threat to a designated object (traditionally but not necessarily the state, incorporating government, territory and society). 3 On ethnopolitical mobilization of disadvantaged minorities, see Saikia 2011. 4 Parallels can be drawn from the Irish and Basque independence movements at least in relation to the ‘political correlates of internal colonialism’ and resistance to integration into nationalist Ireland and Spain respectively. 5 Nation- building inevitably implies a large measure of correlative ‘nation- destroying’, implying attempts by dominant nations to quash, more or less violently, smaller ethnic groups and their aspirations to become nations in their own right. See Connor 1993. 6 The Ahoms, who integrated and unified different communities living in Assam tried to build up a compelling political identity by overriding primordial and parochial identities. 7 Rangghar situated in Sibsagar district, the historical capital of Ahoms, has specific significance and links with the principles and beliefs of the ethnonationalists. 8 Issues related to the Assam movement are elaborated in a subsequent section. 9 The leadership of ULFA including Arabinda Rajkhowa, Pradip Gogoi and Bhimkanta Burhagohain, belonged to the Tai-Ahom, Moran and Motok communities. The latter with their origins in the Sutiya indigenous ethnicity ruled Assam before the Ahoms arrived. The organisation encompassed members from different socio-economic backgrounds and ethnicity. While the leadership mostly belonged to the middle class, the cadres ranged from low middle class to poor socio-economic backgrounds. 10 A pertinent example can be drawn from the narratives of respondents who shared similar views on the process of mustering support (mostly from college dropouts and unemployed youth) for separatism at the beginning of the movement. 11 The Yandaboo treaty, signed in 1826 between the British and the King of Burma after the Anglo- Burmese war, ceded Burmese occupied territories including Assam and Manipur to the British. The treaty and Assam’s subsequent integration is, however, rejected by ULFA. 12 Perspectives gained from ULFA writings and personal interview with ex- ULFA commander of 28th battalion. 13 ULFA writings like Swadhinata, Chenglot Fengla and poems by slain ULFA rebel Kabiranjan Saikia vividly express some of these views. 14 In a personal interview, the ex- commander of the 28th Battalion recalled with admira- tion his days of political and military education that he received from NSCN leader Muivah, how they established relationships with the Naga people living on the other side of the border, and the inroads into Burma through the Chindwin River. 15 ULFA shifted its bases in the 1990s from Myanmar to Samdrup Jongkhar, in southern Bhutan, which borders Assam’s Nalbari district. The rebel returnee recollects it as Myanmar’s ‘betrayal’. 16 These activities prominently played out along the Indo- Myanmar border, between Moreh in Manipur and Tamu in Burma. Information is based on interview and newspaper reports. Also see Verghese 1996. 58 P. Saikia 17 Rajkhowa was the Vice-President of Youth Congress and ex-Forest minister of Assam Dinanath Rajkhowa’s son. See Talukdar and Kalita 2011: 70. 18 Most often, insurgents receive civilian support after state- perpetrated indiscriminate violence, inducing rebels to act as vanguards of civilian security. Ironically, ULFA did not provide the incentives of collective security in the context of indiscriminate state repression during anti-insurgency campaigns. Instead civilians were drawn into the crossfire of indiscriminate torture and violence between the insurgents and state which ultimately produced a suboptimal outcome. 19 Political goods include promotion of civil society, economic opportunities, infrastructure, enforceable rule of law, above all, eliminating dangers to human security. See Rotberg 2003. 20 Congress provided external support to Chandra Sekhar. After the successful toppling of Singh’s government and subsequently withdrawing of outside support Congress was back to power in 1991. See Hardgrave and Kochanek 1999. 21 In democracies where incumbent credibility appears to be typically absent, citizens are nonetheless able to exert some control on politicians. The ability to do so depends on the performance threshold based on incumbent’s response to pre-election promises. See Ferejohn 1995. 22 Evidence shows that these terror tactics were mostly used to intimidate and coerce non- Assamese, mostly Hindi- speaking, people to leave Assam. 23 ULFA camps at Lakhipathar, infamous for collective graves of civilians, were unearthed during these campaigns. 24 Factionalisation includes situations where a rebel group splits into two or more competing, violent groups, as well as situations in which part of the rebel group decides to disarm or participate in a peace process. See Lidow 2011. 25 Newspaper reports reveal that AGP’s performance was relatively better than the previous elections in the Muslim majority states of Barpeta, Goalpara, Dhubri and Nagaon. 26 Indian Express, 12 June 1997. 27 The Hindu, 24 November 2000. 28 Hindustan Times, 9 December 2000. 29 Blame and counter-blame exist. The AGP claimed that the Congress aided the ULFA to destabilise the government before the elections due in 2001. See Prakash 2008: 225. 30 Hindustan Times, 4 January 2001. 31 The state government’s deplorable performance in providing security and welfare benefits was also revealed when state government employees staged continuous protests against non-payment of regular salaries. 32 Several reports suggest that the Congress gained a lot from the issue of secret killings. Congress used it as an issue in the election campaign but nothing much had been done to provide justice to the families of those killed under mysterious circumstances. 33 Chaudhuri 2001/2002. 34 Government of India 2004. 35 PCG included Lachit Bordoloi, a journalist and human rights activist, Ajit Bhuyan and Hyder Hussain, editors of vernacular newspapers Aji and Pratidin respectively, Dilip Patgiri, associated with AJYCP, Rebati Phukan, a relative of Paresh Baruah and writer Indira Goswami, 36 The five Central Committee members whose release was sought by ULFA included Vice- Chairman Pradip Gogoi, political advisor and ideologue Bhimkanta, Publicity Secretary Daimary, Executive Committee member Ramu Mech and Cultural Sec- retary Pranati Deka. In a PIL filed by Lachit Bordoloi, a PCG member, it was mentioned that the army had detained civilians without proper food and medicines in the Dibru- Saikhowa operation. Bordoloi was arrested in 2008 on flimsy charges. Several newspaper reports cited his continuous efforts to uncover human rights violations of the state security forces as one of the reasons for his arrest. The ULFA insurgency in Assam 59 37 Hindustan Times, 29 November 2006. 38 Several reports suggest that these attacks were carried out in collaboration with NDFB, a Bodo insurgent group, and HUJI, a militant group operating in Bangladesh. 39 Between ULFA and Peace, Indian Express, 20 February 2011. 40 Press Trust of India, 9 April and 25 October 2012. 41 Navnirman Kendras (Reconstruction Centres) provide access to agricultural income- generating activities. 42 Political integration involves submitting to civilian laws and norms. See UN 2006. 43 Press Trust of India, 9 April and 25 October 2012.

References Atzili, Boaz, Peace Process, in William A. Darity, ed., International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Detroit, Michigan: Macmillan, 2008, pp. 185–186. Buzan, Barry, Ole Wæver and Jaap de Wilde, Security: A New Framework for Analysis, Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1998. Chaterjee, Suhas, Making of Mizoram: Role of Laldenga, Ludhiana, Punjab: M.D. Publi- cations, 1994, p. 374. Chaudhuri, Kalyan, A Peace Initiative, Frontline Magazine, Vol. 18, Issue 26, 22 Decem- ber 2001/4 January 2002. www.frontline.in/static/html/fl1826/18260440.htm. Connor, Walker, Ethnonationalism: The Quest for Understanding, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993. Ferejohn, J., The Spatial Model and Elections, in B. Grofman, ed., Information, Parti- cipation and Choice, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1995, pp. 107–124. Gohain, Hiren, Origins of the Assamese Middle Class, Social Scientist, Vol. 2, No. 1, 1973, pp. 11–26. Government of India, Press Information Bureau, 17 August 2004. www.satp.org/ satporgtp/countries/india/states/assam/documents/papers/HomeMinAug04.htm. 1 May 2012. Hardgrave, Robert L. and Stanley A. Kochanek, India: Government and Politics in a Developing Nation, Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1999. Hechter, Michael, Internal Colonialism: The Celtic Fringe in British National Develop- ment, Routledge: London, 1975. Kalyvas, Stathis, The Logic of Violence in Civil War, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Lidow, Nicolai Hart, Violent Order: Rebel Organization and Liberia’s Civil War, unpublished dissertation, Stanford University, 2011. Misra, Udayan, The Periphery Strikes Back: Challenges to the Nation-State in Assam and Nagaland, Shimla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study, 2000. Nairn, Tom, The Break- Up of Britain: Crisis and Neo- Nationalism, London: New Left Books, 1977. Paul, T.V., South Asia’s Weak States: Understanding the Regional Insecurity Predica- ment, Redwood City, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010. Prakash, Ved, Terrorism in India’s North- East: A Gathering Storm, Delhi: Gyan Publish- ing House, 2008. Rotberg, Robert I., ed., When States Fail: Causes and Consequences, Princeton: Prince- ton University Press, 2003. Saikia, Pahi, Ethnic Mobilization and Violence in Northeast India, New Delhi: Routledge, 2011. 60 P. Saikia Talukdar, Mrinal, Utpal Borpujari and Kaushik Deka, Secret Killings of Assam:The Horror Tales from the Land of Red River and Blue Tales, Guwahati, Assam: Nanda Talukdar Foundation, 2009. Talukdar, Mrinal and K. Kalita, ULFA: A Historical Account of 32 Year Struggle, Guwa- hati, Assam: Nanda Talukdar Foundation, 2011. UN (United Nations), Integrated Disarmament Demobilization and Reintegration Strat- egies 2.10, New York: United Nations, 2006. Verghese, B.G., India’s Northeast Resurgent, Delhi: Konark Publishers, 1996. 4 The Khalistan movement in Punjab- India and the post- militancy era1, 2 Structural change and new political compulsions

Virginia Van Dyke

From approximately 1980 to 1992, the Indian state of Punjab was riven by an internecine, anti- state conflict involving a movement to establish a separate independent Sikh state of Khalistan. It is estimated that upward of 25,000 people were killed in this period, the majority of whom, in spite of the communal rhetoric of the movement, were Sikhs. In 1992, an election for the Punjab Vidhan Sabha, the unicameral legislative assembly, was held that was boycotted by all the factions claiming to represent the Sikhs; it was won by the Congress Party with an abysmally low turnout of 23.91 percent. The poll was widely disparaged as a sham that would change nothing and was analyzed as an election in which those calling for a boycott won (Yadav 1992: 122–126). Yet the election ultimately began a period that decisively ended militancy. Attempts by individuals, groups, and factions to restart the movement have been met with determined opposition by all other parties, the state and local governments, and, it seems, the exhausted population, most of whom refuse to vote for those advocating religious nationalism by any name. Even the most determined proponent of Khalistan must concede that few are interested in that subject today in Punjab. What discussion there is has been kept up, to no small degree, by the diaspora community, members of whom were figuratively on the front lines from the movement’s inception. Notably, the first explicit call for Khalistan was an advertisement taken out in the New York Times by an expatriate. The rapid escalation of the Sikh separatist movement, whether defined as greater autonomy within the Indian union or a separate nation-state, has parallels with other religious nationalist or ethnic movements of the same period in India and South Asia. But the Punjab situation is unique in terms of its precipitous end, after seeming irremediable. Why then did this movement that took currency with the local rural population so quickly end just as quickly, without any of the outstanding issues—structural and political developments identified by analysts as causes of the conflict—being addressed or rectified? In an even more para- doxical development, why and how did the traditional leaders associated with Punjab political parties and Sikh institutions, who had been marginalized during the militant era, reemerge? Their factional struggles and political failures had 62 V. Van Dyke played a part in exacerbating militancy. Nonetheless, the same individuals re- established themselves, and the same political parties and institutions reconsoli- dated power after a struggle involving alternative loci of a religious-based authority drawing on Sikh tradition. The current political situation is not dissimilar from that of the late 1970s. Agriculture is in some cases unremunerative, and there is still a lack of alternative avenues of employment, resulting in a high rate of migration out of this relatively wealthy state. Furthermore, the ongoing contention over Sikh identity has led to physical altercations between Khalsa Sikhs (that is, followers of Guru Gobind Singh, the last of a line of ten Sikh gurus who exhibit the outward symbols of Sikhism), and followers of a sant, Gurmit Ram Rahim Singh, who propagates syncretistic beliefs and practices. This conflict closely resembles a clash with the Sant Nirankaris3 in 1978, an event to which many date the beginning of the separatist conflict. Further, the outstanding demands or issues associated with the Sikh political party, the Shiromani Akali Dal4 have not been addressed. These include: the status of Chandigarh, built to be the capital of Punjab but serving as the joint capital of Punjab and Haryana States; the incorporation of certain Punjabi-speaking areas into Punjab; the status of the Punjabi language in the neighboring states; the issue of river water allocation; and, a more recent demand, justice for the victims of the anti-Sikh pogrom in 1984 that followed Indira Gandhi’s assassination by two of her Sikh bodyguards.5 Even so, militancy is not likely to reemerge, at least in the short term, given: (1) structural changes within the Indian political system toward increased federalism; (2) the rise of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) as a national force and the emergence of coalition politics at the state and central levels; and (3) the related current anomalous situation in which one Akali Dal faction controls all three state- level arenas of political contestation.6 This undercuts the ability of an opposition party to play one faction against another, as well as limiting the incentive for factional groups to increase rhetoric or actions that appeal to religious or emotive issues, in a competition that has been termed “ethnic outbidding.” One of the most basic demands of the Akali Dal has been a restructuring of state–centre relations giving greater autonomy to the states. This would, at least theoretically, allow the Sikhs, as the majority community in Punjab, to control their own affairs. The demand for autonomy has a long history within the Sikh community, many of whom believe that independence, or quasi-independence, was on the cards during Partition but was mishandled by Sikh leaders. For these Sikhs, some type of autonomy should and will persist as a long-term goal. This demand was articulated in the Shiromani Akali Dal’s 1973 Anandpur Sahib Res- olution, which, among a list of economic, political, and religious demands, calls for a type of federalism in which the central government’s writ would be limited to defense, foreign relations, currency, and communication (Oberoi 1993).7 The document has been used as the basis for political demands; the Congress Party has countered that it is secessionist. As recently as February 2009, there was a furor when a major Akali Dal leader mentioned implementation of this resolution as a goal of the party (“Anandpur Row” and “Sukhbir Prefers to Keep Mum” 2009). The Khalistan movement in Punjab 63 There has, in fact, been a move toward greater regional autonomy because of structural changes in the Indian political and economic systems having little to do with the central government devolving power to the states through negotiations. Rather, this shift toward federalism has stemmed from the growing importance of state-level parties in this era of coalition politics at the center, along with the move away from centralized planning. The latter is seen in the introduction of neoliberal economic reforms that also transfer power to the states. Furthermore, the S. R. Bommai v. Union of India decision of the Supreme Court of 1994 made it more difficult for the central government to intervene directly in state level politics by dismissing state governments in a partisan fashion. That is, rather than the central government deciding that the state- level cabinet had lost its mandate, the ruling party must be allowed to try to prove its majority in a vote in the house. Another major structural change in the Indian political party system that has impacted politics in Punjab is the rise of the BJP as a national party and its relationship with the Akalis in coalition governments there. Since the reorganization of the state’s boundaries in 1966, which gave a majority to the Sikhs in Punjab, an essentially two- party system has existed in the state: the Akali Dal in opposition to the Congress Party, with Akali Dal governments drawing support from the Jan Sangh Party (the predecessor of the BJP). From 1966 to 1997, no Akali- led government lasted its full term, falling victim to factional fights within the Akali Dal that were manipulated by the Congress Party at the center. (Within Indian politics, the ruling party at the center has a variety of tools it can use to destabilize opposition parties in the states.) The situation has been reversed with BJP-led governments or potential BJP- led governments at the center restructuring this dynamic. Therefore, two changes that have stabilized Punjab politics have occurred. First, coterminous coalition governments between the BJP and the Akali Dal at the state and central level have given stability and credibility to the state government. The BJP has stood resolutely with the Akali Dal’s chief minister of Punjab, Parkash Singh Badal, in the face of factional fights and attempts to pull down his government from within. It has supported him on every stage including inducting his son, Sukhbir Singh Badal, as a minister at the center. National leaders of the BJP even countenanced the recent appointment of Sukhbir Singh Badal as deputy chief minister of Punjab (and therefore heir apparent), in spite of strong opposition at the state level.8 This is the opposite of the situation in the late 1970s and early 1980s. As Brass (1988) argues, Mrs. Gandhi as prime minister fundamentally restructured state–center relations by centralizing power and repeatedly intervening in state-level politics to maintain Congress control. In the case of Punjab, this meant extending political patronage to extremists in an effort to split the Akali Dal and opposing and undermining moderate Akali Dal leaders by refusing to allow them a political victory in negotiations. Mrs. Gandhi viewed Punjab politics largely through the lens of this state’s impact on politics in the neighboring Hindi- belt; she also harbored resentment against the Akali Dal’s active protests against the Indian state’s repressive measures during the “Emergency” of 1975–77. Table 4.1 Formation and termination of cabinets in Punjab, 1967 to present

Chief Minister Composition of Date in Date out Cause of termination Result government of cabinet

Justice Gurnam Singh (United front of all March 1967 November 1967 Gill defected, New cabinet formed (SAD-Sant) non-Congress supported by Parties) SAD Congress (Sant)–SAD (Master) and various minor parties Lachhman Singh Gill (Minority government) November 1967 August 1968 Lost Congress support President’s Rule (previously SAD, Janata Party supported imposed by then Janata Party) by Congress and Congress Party at SAD (Master) Centre President’s Rule – August 1968 February 1969 – Elections Justice Gurnam Singh SAD–Jan Sangh February 1969 March 1970 Split in the party, New cabinet forms Gurnam Singh expelled Parkash Singh Badal SAD–Jan Sangh March 1970 June 1971 Dissolved cabinet in President’s Rule face of defectors and factionalism President’s Rule – June 1971 March 1972 – Elections Giani Zail Singh Congress March 1972 April 1977 Dismissed when President’s Rule Janata Party won elections at the Center President’s Rule – April 1977 June 1977 – Elections Parkash Singh Badal SAD–Janata June 1977 February 1980 Dismissed when President’s Rule Party*–CPM Congress returned to power at the Center President’s Rule – February 1980 June 1980 – Elections Darbara Singh Congress July 1980 October 1983 Dismissed due to President’s Rule rising violence President’s Rule – October 1983 September 1985 – Elections Surjit Singh Barnala SAD September 1985 May 1987 Becomes minority President’s Rule SAD (Longowal) government when Akali factions withdraw; Congress later withdraws support for failure to control militancy President’s Rule – June 1987 February 1992 – Elections Beant Singh Congress February 1992 August 1995 Chief minister New cabinet formed assassinated by militants Harcharan Singh Brar Congress August 1995 November 1996 Chief minister forced New cabinet formed to resign after party’s poor showing in elections Rajinder Kaur Bhattal Congress January 1996 February 1997 Scheduled elections – Parkash Singh Badal SAD–BJP February 1997 February 2002 Scheduled elections – Captain Amarinder Congress February 2002 February 2007 Scheduled elections – Singh Parkash Singh Badal SAD–BJP March 2007 June 2012 Scheduled Elections – Parkash Singh Badal SAD–BJP June 2012 Present – Elections expected 2017

Sources: http://punjabassembly.nic.in/members/showcm.asp; David Butler, Ashok Lahiri and Prannoy Roy. 1995. India Decides: Elections 1952–1995. New Delhi: Books & Things; Subash C. Kashyap. 1969. The Politics of Defection. New Delhi: National Publishing House; various newspaper accounts. Notes CPM is the Communist Party India (Marxist). * The Jan Sangh was part of the Janata Party in 1977. 66 V. Van Dyke Second, in a related development, Badal has been able to consolidate his personal control over the three bases of political power that were previously more likely to each be controlled by a separate factional leader: the Akali Dal’s organizational wing, its ministerial wing, and the SGPC, described below. For the time being, these two developments effectively marginalize other Akali Dal factions and limit the influence of other parties or groups on internal party politics. It may be suggested that such a stranglehold on power will squeeze other would- be leaders out of this straitjacket. These leaders—either from opposition to Badal’s ideology of Punjabiyat9 and alliance with the BJP, or under more political compulsions—might then stage challenges whose ideology draws on the legacy of the militant movement. This has in fact occurred, particularly during the 2002 and 2007 assembly elections. However, constituents do not vote in large numbers for factions opposing Badal’s that appear to be calling for a return to the 1980s. In the most recent assembly election in May 2012, the focus was on issues of development (Mahaprashasta 2012) and even the “third front” opposition led by a dissident Akali (and Badal family member) emphasized issues aside from religion or community (A. Kumar 2012). Table 4.1 illustrates the instability of the political system prior to 1992 and its stability thereafter. In India, elections are mandated every five years, so a government that ends sooner is ending prematurely.

Genesis of the conflict The socioeconomic changes and political developments that have been seen as precipitating the militant movement include: the impact of the Green Revolu- tion; the lack of non- agricultural employment, particularly limited options to enter military service; the social changes related to modernity that undermine a separate Sikh identity; and the political machinations by the central government. Dissatisfaction with economic, social, and political conditions found a voice in the late 1970s in a charismatic Sikh preacher, Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale, who was able to articulate these grievances as discrimination against Sikhs and the intentional undermining of Sikh identity. After initially offering Bhindranwale political patronage, the center responded in 1984 to the growth of militancy and to terrorist acts with a disastrous, heavy- handed army action in the city of Amrit- sar, “Operation Bluestar” (discussed in detail below). This attack was followed by mopping- up operations known as “Operation Woodrose” in which the state killed or incarcerated innocent young men and terrorized their families (Tully and Jacob 1991: 200–205). Political demands stem from the 1966 redrawing of the boundaries of Punjab State following, belatedly, an India- wide policy to reorganize political boundaries along linguistic lines. Sikhs then became the majority community in a much smaller state. This fulfilled a long- standing demand from the Akali Dal that the center implement polices that jibe with Nehru’s often quoted statement, “I see no wrong in an area and a set- up in the North wherein the Sikhs can also experience a glow of freedom” (Grewal 1994: 2005). Sikhs view themselves as The Khalistan movement in Punjab 67 having opted for India during the process of decolonization; the large majority of Sikhs that were living in the area that became Pakistan migrated to India.10 The way in which this last restructuring was done created long-standing grievances. Punjab was the last state to be reorganized, after two Sikh political leaders had gone on a “fast-unto-death” and after Punjabi-speaking Hindus in the state had told census canvassers that their mother tongue was Hindi, in order to block Punjab’s reorganization. Furthermore, certain issues remained outstanding. For example, the capital city of Chandigarh was not transferred to the state, and certain Punjabi- speaking areas were also left out. Other issues that created a sense of injustice included the amount of control still wielded by the central government over agricultural policy and licenses for industry; control over the dis- pensation of water rights to neighboring states; and smaller issues, such as a license to set up broadcasting from the Golden Temple. Scholars disagree on the importance of the introduction of the Green Revolu- tion as a factor in the Khalistan movement.11 Certainly, many of the Akali Dal demands were directed at policies impacting farmers who had adopted Green Revolution technology. These included subsidized electricity, availability of water, credit for farm machinery, and the procurement prices for grain. Sikhs, particularly the dominant Jat Sikhs, mainly reside in rural areas and are agricul- turalists. The Green Revolution had an uneven impact on farmers because the larger capitalist farmers were in the best position to adopt the new technologies. The ultimate result was an increasing number of larger farms and a concomitant growth in the number of smaller farmers presumably selling their land (Wallace 1990: 416–481). But the larger farmers were worried as well about whether input costs and grain sales prices would continue to make agriculture viable. The dependence of the state’s farmers on the central government was easily placed within the context of discrimination against Sikhs, particularly in the framework of the larger assertion that Punjab was being used as a colony to produce cheap primary goods while no investment was made in industry. A major concern was the lack of off- farm employment possibilities, especially given that, as Oberoi points out, Jat Sikh young men were unwilling to take jobs as laborers on someone else’s farm or as poorly paid laborers in the industries that existed (Oberoi 1993: 264). Many families had legacies of military service preceding and during the colonial period, when the British categorized the Sikhs as a “martial race.” However, Indira Gandhi’s stated plan to bring down the levels of Sikhs employed in the military to their percentage of India’s population created the perception of blatant discrimination (Pettigrew 1995: 6). Sikh identity also became an issue in the late 1970s. A hotly debated question is whether there is, or could be, an underlying Punjabiyat identity that transcended identities based on religious nationalism. Furthermore, there was a question whether Sikh identity was open to a multiplicity of interpretations or limited to a definition that only incorporates the Khalsa Sikhs—those who exhibit the most visible symbols of Sikh identity, particularly uncut hair and a turban. The changes in religious practices with the impact of modernity were a primary emphasis of Bhindranwale when he began preaching. He would visit villages 68 V. Van Dyke and exhort young people to be good Sikhs, not cut their hair, and not use nar- cotics. This concern over orthopraxy manifested itself also during the militant movement as certain militant groups attempted to instigate cultural and religious reform along fundamentalist lines, impacting the consumption of alcohol, cloth- ing, and the behavior of women. The morcha (agitation) launched by the Akali Dal in the early 1980s was a protest against the policies of the central government that seemed to discriminate against Sikhs. After 1980, when Congress won both the assembly and parliamentary elections in the state (aided in part by Akali factionalism), terrorist acts in Punjab began to rise. In 1982, Bhindranwale entered the political struggle led by the Akali Dal against the policies of the central government. The Akalis had an uneasy relationship with him, but no one could disown him completely because he appeared to be working for the Panth (Sikh community). Bhindranwale created a power structure that dominated Punjab politics outside of electoral channels. In fact, when he did sponsor candidates for election, few were successful. Rather, he drew on his personal charisma, the Dam Dami Taksal (a “mint” or Sikh seminary), and the coterminous creation of new institutions that supported him. The latter included the Dal Khalsa (Army of the Khalsa), created in 1978 (many believe by Congress leaders); the Akhand Kirth- ani Jatha (Organization for the Ceaseless Singing of Devotional Songs), also formed in 1978; and the All India Sikh Students Federation (AISSF ). In fact, it has been argued that Bhindranwale had three sponsors in succession: Congress, sections of the Akali Dal, and Pakistan, which was said to have promised him military support in a showdown with Indian forces over establishing Khalistan (Interview 2006). Whether this latter assertion is true, Bhindranwale had his own agenda and a very clear sense of himself in history. He seemed to have a prescient knowledge of his own death, believing it would usher in a social and political transformation: “I am a Sant, no one can harm me . . . it is not easy to kill me. If I die there will be floods and disaster. Those persons who are against me .. . will be taken care of by god” (Shenoy 1984). In fact, Oberoi considered Bhindranwale’s movement to be millenarian because he stressed divine intervention and identified with “apoca- lyptic thinking” (Oberoi 1993: 267–268). Bhindranwale was implicated in the murders of two prominent individuals considered anti- Sikh but was protected for political reasons. The first of these murders was that of the Sant Nirankari guru discussed above; the Home Minister of India commented in Parliament that Bhin- dranwale was not involved, in spite of his active participation in the violent clash and the rhetoric that followed. The second murder was of a Hindu newspaper owner, Lala Jagat Narain, a supporter of the Nirankaris, whose writings were seen as supporting the Hindu community in opposition to Sikhs. Bhindranwale was arrested by the Punjab government but released because of the direct intervention of the central government (Tully and Jacob 1991: 65–72). He ultimately took up residence in the Akal Takht (Throne of the Timeless) itself, the shrine that symbol- izes temporal power within the Golden Temple complex, and established something of a parallel government to the state system. The Khalistan movement in Punjab 69 In 1984, the Indian army launched an attack on the Golden Temple complex to remove the militants who had fortified it; the action created martyrs and completely disaffected the Sikh population, including the diaspora.12 Estimates of the number of casualties vary widely. The number is high because the complex was filled with a large number of pilgrims and the battle went on for close to three days. It is uncertain because bodies were cremated en masse and not counted in any organized fashion. An Indian government White Paper puts the number at 493 civilians killed and eighty-three men from the army; civil rights organizations, such as the Movement against State Oppression, estimate the number “exceeds 10,000” (Pettigrew 1995: 24); and Mark Tully, one of the few journal- ists to witness the events, estimates that “1,600 people were unaccounted for” above and beyond the government figure (although not necessarily killed) (Tully and Jacob 1991: 183–185). The intense reaction of the Sikh community apparently was not anticipated by the government as the army moved into the Sikhs’ holiest religious center, dam- aging much of the structure and destroying by fire, deliberately or not, irreplace- able manuscripts in the library. As phrased by Pettigrew, the goal of the attack was “to suppress the culture of a people, to attack their heart, to strike a blow at their spirit and self confidence” (Pettigrew 1995: 8). Another blow was struck against the Sikhs when upward of 2,000 Sikhs in Delhi and several other cities were murdered by rampaging mobs after the assassination of Indira Gandhi in retaliation for the army action. Complicity of members of the Congress Party in not only condoning the killings but actually organizing the pogrom is irrefutable. Justice for survivors has been non- existent; in fact, two of the main accused Congress Party leaders continued as members of Parliament until pressure built up against them in 2009. In 1985, elections were held in the state that were widely heralded as a positive move and evidence that Rajiv Gandhi, as the new prime minister, would follow a less interventionist policy. This was an encouraging sign after an ominous beginning, when the conflict in Punjab and the assassination of Indira Gandhi by two Sikhs were used to whip up communal support for the Congress Party in the preceding national elections in December 1984. The elections followed an accord signed behind closed doors between Sant Harchand Singh Longowal, a prominent and moderate Akali leader, and Rajiv Gandhi. This was perceived as a sellout by the militants, leading to Longowal’s assassination. The accord itself fits the model, according to Gurharpal Singh, of “symbolic agreements accompanied by non- implementation” (Singh 1996: 412). That is, not only was the agreement not implemented, but the center was negotiating with members of the AISSF at the same time, while keeping them away from the negotiations with Longowal (Interview 1994). In the subsequent elections, the Akali Dal came to power without coalition partners for the first time but, ultimately, factional fighting left the government at the mercy of Congress. The central government then toppled the Akali Dal in 1987, dismissing the state government and imposing direct presidential rule, under the premise that terrorism was not being contained by the moderate Akali 70 V. Van Dyke government. This was the last time state-level elections would be held until 1992 and, at this point, power shifted to the militant groups. Battling state forces and each other, these groups attempted to legitimize their actions through institutions such as the Akal Takht, the putative supreme seat of Sikh authority, or various “Panthic Committees,” described below. As Wallace points out, there was no obvious second string of leaders who were ready to take over after Bhindran- wale, although certainly such claims were made by his father, Joginder Singh, and Bhai Mokham Singh of the Dam Dami Taksal. What emerged was a plethora of militant groups that engaged in internecine and revenge killings. The main groups—the Babbar Khalsa (Lion of the Khalsa), the Khalistan Commando Force, the Khalistan Liberation Force, and the Bhindranwale Tiger Force—each split into an astounding number of factions. Ultimately, along with independent groups, “a total of at least 162 terrorist groups” could be counted (Wallace 2007: 443).

Religio- political structures Within Sikh politics, there are parallel structures of political power that corres- pond to those of the Indian state, both institutional and ideological. Just preceding and during the era of militancy, more-traditional structures constituted during the colonial period were displaced by individuals and groups. These associations sought to establish their legitimacy in newly reformulated religious concepts or by foregrounding new or less well- known institutions. The charismatic leadership of Bhindranwale, grounded in institutions that were associated with him, created a template used after his death in which those perceived as having a religious authority vied for power, or were used by others aspiring to political power. Once Punjab’s electoral politics resumed in 1992, it set off a struggle between these alternative loci of religio-political authority and the formerly established political parties and institutions. These latter include both the Akali Dal and the SGPC, which controls and administers the historical Sikh gurdwaras (Puri 1981: 300–302). Both of these grew out of a movement in the 1920s to remove control of the gurdwaras from private and non- Akali Sikh hands and restore them to the community. As such, both are ethnonationalist organizations; the SGPC has been referred to as the “religious parliament of the Sikhs” (Puri 1981: 302).13 It controls a large amount of both material and ideological resources, employing a vast contingent of people from the ragis (who sing in the gurdwaras) to those in charge, the jathedars. The SGPC also defines orthodoxy and orthopraxy within Sikhism and claims to speak as the voice of the Sikhs. Elections to the SGPC are held by the state itself; electoral success in this area may serve as a stepping stone for those who aspire to a career in “secular” politics. The institution also provides an arena in which factional fights play out. The SGPC is unique in its role. By contrast, Hindu nationalists can only aspire to create such an “institutionalized” Hinduism. Among the gurdwaras managed and controlled by the SGPC, five are accorded special reverence because of their association with the lives of the The Khalistan movement in Punjab 71 gurus. These are referred to as takhts (thrones). The most important of these is the Akal Takht, located within the Golden Temple complex immediately opposite the Harimandir Sahib, the Golden Temple itself. The Akal Takht is important both for its history and its symbolism. It was originally constructed as a large raised platform by the sixth Guru, from which he would hold court, to demonstrate his assumption of temporal along with spiritual power. Later, when the bands of Sikhs were scattered across Punjab, they would gather for meetings in front of the Akal Takht. It was destroyed twice, once in 1764, and again by the Indian army in 1984. The Akal Takht was rebuilt by the Indian government, trying to quickly repair wounds left by the 1984 attack. It was pulled down and rebuilt with voluntary labor organized by the Sikh community. The Akal Takht continues to represent the union of temporal with spiritual power; important edicts issued by the SGPC are announced from this site (Singh 1995: 56–60). There are also ideologies and institutions that provide an alternative source of authority or legitimacy. Although they were not absent previously, they came to the fore during the era of militancy. The tenth guru of the Sikhs, Guru Gobind Singh (1666–1720), is believed to have invested authority in the Sikh holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib (granth refers to a book; sahib is an honorific), and the Sikh community (Sangat). This latter is known as the ideology of Guru-Panth (the idea that the guru is present when the community is assembled). When the community is called together in a Sarbat Khalsa (the entire Khalsa, or community), the guru is considered present, and the consensus of the community is invested with the authority to make decisions. Another concept also stemming from stories around the life of Guru Gobind Singh establishes that five upright Sikhs, known as Panch Piaras (Five Beloved), may make decisions that are binding on the community. This institution today may be composed of any five Khalsa Sikhs, but of course it becomes complicated as to who can actually make decisions for the community. The challenge to the traditional structure of Sikh politics emerged in 1986. This period followed the army action in the Golden Temple complex and occurred during a time of intense political upheaval. Although there was an elected Akali Dal government in place at the time, a group of militants who were associated with the Dam Dami Taksal called for a Sarbat Khalsa to be held outside the strictures of the SGPC. The militants issued a call for the creation of Khalistan and appointed a council of five called the Panthic Committee (the committee to represent and lead the Panth). A militant group, the Khalistan Commando Force, was created that would act for the council. This was the first real call for the establishment of Khalistan, although Bhindranwale had alluded to it. Until 1988, when the movement splintered, this type of religious authority was considered sufficient by many to legitimize the militants in the face of the complete discrediting of the normal political process. In tandem with these efforts was the attempt to promote the jathedar of the Akal Takht as the ultimate political and religious authority. Sikhism has no priesthood, and the jathedars are appointed by the SGPC. During the militant era and after, there was an effort to create an ecclesiastical hierarchy that would 72 V. Van Dyke supersede the SGPC. The goal was to enable other groups or individuals to get their man into that position; among the hopeful were central government officials, who hoped to control the Sikhs by controlling the appointment of a cooperative jathedar. When the militants called the Sarbat Khalsa in 1986, they also dissolved the SGPC, which had the authority to appoint the jathedar, and appointed their own. When that person did not appear to be doing their bidding, Gurbachan Singh Manochahal, a militant who started his own group, the Bhindranwale Tiger Force for Khalistan, appointed himself jathedar by force. Other jathedars appeared to have made a deal with the central government. The obvious difficulty with these lines of authority within the community was that they involved contestation over who could call a Sarbat Khalsa, who had the right to appoint the Akal Takht jathedar, and who could be part of the Panch Piaras. Competing Panch Piaras have, in fact, historically given contradictory decisions. When the militant movement began to fracture, competing factions disowned the legitimacy of the original Panthic Committee and established their own. There were also multiple, competing jathedars, who were discarded when they would not acquiesce to demands from certain militant groups. Once power had shifted to quasi- religious institutions and individuals, how would a secular elected government be able to reassert itself?

The cessation of the conflict Peace was restored to Punjab through draconian policing measures under the now legendary (or infamous) Punjab Director General of Police K.P.S. Gill. He had been reinstated in this position by the newly elected Congress Party government in 1991. He was aided by the fact that the militants, many of whom were not ideologically motivated (at least in the latter stage), had lost the support and sympathy of an exhausted rural population. One prominent pro- Khalistan politician blamed the leaders of the militant groups, saying, “The youth were given AK- 47s and they were not given any moral training so they went about looting and plundering” (Interview 1995). Aside from out and out criminals joining their ranks, there are also other explanations why the militants did not seem to be working for the good of the community. There is a widely held belief, backed up by considerable evidence, that the Indian government promoted anti-social elements and introduced government loyalists into militant groups to divide, confuse, and mislead them. Another goal was inciting them to commit crimes, particularly inter-group violence. Gurharpal Singh relates this to what he terms “managed disorder,” the idea that ebbs and flows in violence were part of a controlled design to aid the Congress Party (Singh 1996: 417–418). Certainly, former militants, known as “cats,” were induced by the security forces to work for them. This sometimes produced disastrous results when it became apparent that criminal behavior was supported by the government (Wallace 2007: 417–418; Walia 2008; “Controversial Nihang” 2008).14 The Khalistan movement in Punjab 73 Anthropological works have identified fun and excitement, along with expres- sions of masculinity, as explanations for why young men join militant, religious nationalist groups (Verkaaik 2004).15 Puri et al. identify “fun” as one of the primary reasons young men, undereducated or even illiterate, and with few job prospects, joined pro- Khalistan militant groups. Only 5 percent of “militants” joined in pursuit of Khalistan, according to this study (Puri et al. 1999: 68–71).16 Joyce Pettigrew identifies “Jat Sikh social structure and political culture” as crucial in understanding how the movement was undermined. According to her, the Sikh community—especially its Jat segment—is characterized by factionalism and a desire to ally with whoever is in power in order to gain the upper hand in village struggles and feuds. She describes how, over several visits to Punjab in the early 1990s, she could see loyalties shift from the militants to the state itself as the movement disintegrated into personal feuds, vendettas, and internecine fighting fueled by the government’s infiltration and subversion of militant groups. Chaos was also exacerbated by Pakistan’s policy of handing out arms “indiscriminate[ly],” its goals apparently falling short of “liberating” Punjab (Pettigrew 1995: 188–197). Divisions among the Sikhs also undermined the movement. Pettigrew points out that non- Jat urban Sikhs did not want to live in a “Jatistan.” Pramod Kumar expands this further, arguing that differentiation of the population stemming from the Green Revolution ensured a lack of unity (Kumar 2003: 379). There is in fact an argument that the effort by Akali Sikh leaders to place economic issues (such as the procurement price of grain) in the context of danger to the Panth was precisely to gloss over these differences and unite the Sikhs behind issues of more concern to the wealthier, capitalist farmers. Other divisions stem from the traditional preference for military or police service as a career choice: 65 percent of the police force in Punjab were Sikhs in the 1980s. Gill famously referred to the conflict as Jat against Jat. Another view of the ending of the militancy focuses less on social structure and the venality of the militants, and more on political will. It also points to the overwhelming use of security forces to induce villagers (unsure as to whom the winner was going to be) to switch sides. Gill himself (1999: 58) describes the change in policy this way:

the provision of adequate force in the state, backed by an uncompromising policy of non- interference. . . . There was no back-street driving from Delhi, no dubious political moves and maneuvers, no deals with the terrorists and their over-ground agencies, undermining strategic and security initiatives.

After the killing of a number of prominent militants and the surrender of others, the rural populace stopped showing up for the various ceremonies and political demonstrations called by the militants that had been a hallmark of the post- 1989 period. The militant era, in essence, was over. This followed on the heels of the 1992 assembly elections in the state. In spite of the low turnout for those elections, voters ultimately supported democracy with a turnout of 70 74 V. Van Dyke percent for municipal council elections held later in 1992 (Ramakrishnan 1992), followed by panchayat (local level) elections in January 1993 with an even higher participation percentage. The 1992 state assembly elections and the boycott of these by all militant groups and major Akali Dal factions have produced a number of competing explanations as to the motives and compulsions of the different players, e.g. why were elections held when they were? The year before, announced elections had been suddenly called off at the last minute after many candidates had defied the militants’ boycott order. Many of the candidates had been killed by militants. In spite of Chief Election Commissioner T.N. Seshan’s contention that the cancellation of the elections occurred because of the situation on the ground,17 it seems clear that the decision was made because of concern over the prospective results that would have disfavored the Congress; certainly this was a disincentive for Congress to hold elections. The traditional Akali leaders, who had stood by virtually helplessly through five years of President’s Rule and militancy, began to reconsolidate their power. However, at this point, there were multiple Akali Dal factions. The militants were, for the most part, eliminated or, in some cases, rehabilitated through a government policy. But possible alternative forms of authority—embodied in the Dam Dami Taksal, the Panthic Committees, the AISSF, and the Akal Takht jathedar—continued to provide a new, and for some, empowering vision of what politics and leadership could look like. However, the Dam Dami Taksal’s head, Baba Thakur Singh, was quite elderly. Until 1995, the institution continued to maintain that Bhindranwale was alive in the hopes of maintaining unity, but this was to no avail as the leadership split into different factions. The AISSF also split. Given the centrality of religious nationalism to the militant movement, and to Sikh politics more broadly, a number of sants put themselves forward or were put forward by others, as potential leaders, particularly in relation to the 1996–97 parliamentary, state assembly, and SGPC elections. There was an effort made to center politics around the figure of the Akal Takht jathedar, and much discussion about the need to change the method of his selection so as to represent all Sikhs. The jathedar, Professor Manjit Singh, tried to unite all the Akali factions by appeals and threats, presumably at the urging of Gurcharan Singh Tohra, the head of the SGPC, who was competing with Parkash Singh Badal for leadership at the time. Badal, however, resisted the jathedar’s attempt to create a unified Akali Dal under his dictate. Unity with Tohra and other Sikh leaders would have diluted Badal’s more moderate position and emphasis on a Punjabiyat identity. In order to achieve this end, Manjit Singh summoned Badal to the Akal Takht on the threat of excommunication for refusing to join the united Akali Dal. Badal, however, arrived with such a large contingent of supporters that the jathedar was unable to act against him (Van Dyke 1999). Parliamentary, assembly, and SGPC elections were held in 1996–97. (The government is mandated to hold the SGPC elections every five years, but after a span of seventeen years, the joke was that the sitting members would be too elderly to travel to the meetings.) Badal’s faction of the Akali Dal won all three The Khalistan movement in Punjab 75 elections decisively. This reasserted the dominance of the traditional parties in the face of challenges by militant-associated factions.

Conclusion The ideal of autonomy has a long-term attraction to Sikhs who feel a strong identity as a nation, who draw on the historical Sikh kingdom of Ranjit Singh as an idyllic precedent, and who view Sikh history as a long struggle for Khalistan. It is not uncommon for Sikhs to share the idea that Sikhs have contributed to India in ways far beyond what their mere numbers would suggest, such as in the nationalist movement, prominent roles in the military, and in developing Punjab as the breadbasket of India. Many feel that their reward has been various forms of discrimination. Working against this long- term goal of an autonomous or independent state (at least for those who desire it) are migration trends. As Sikhs move out of Punjab and go abroad, workers from less developed states move in, undermining Punjab’s position as a Sikh majority state. Symbolic issues surrounding Sikh identity continue to energize groups that were prominent between 1980 and 1992, such as the current agitation against certain religious leaders who are viewed as being heretical and/or insulting to Sikhism and the Sikh gurus. As mentioned earlier, there are a number of sants in rural areas in Punjab associated with institutions known as deras (religious headquarters)—9,000 by one count. Most of these do not challenge orthodoxy. Growth in their numbers is such that McLeod (1987: 253) referred in 1987 to the “Sant phenomenon in modern Punjab.” Their numbers have multiplied since the militant era, as various religious leaders took advantage of the money available from the SGPC for rebuilding gurdwaras, and then established their own roles (Dogra 2007).18 Sants are thought to have a great deal of influence over their followers’ political beliefs and behavior. Political leaders make well-publicized visits to seek the blessings of these individuals in the run- up to an election, which then has the effect of increasing the status of the sant being patronized. Recently, several religious leaders have been seen as violating orthodoxy in such a way as to inflame the SGPC and pro-Khalistan groups. The most prominent of these is Baba Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh, who claims to have moved beyond mundane definitions of religious divisions. Still, Ram Rahim had himself pictured in an advertisement dressed like Guru Gobind Singh and replicating the symbolism of the ceremony at which the 10th Sikh guru inaugurated the Khalsa in 1699. Following publication, the resulting furor included violent clashes between the Khalsa Sikhs and Ram Rahim’s followers. One protestor, now known as a martyr, was killed by Ram Rahim’s bodyguards. The then-jathedar of the Akal Takht issued a hukamnama, instructing Sikhs not to have any social interaction with this group. The Akal Takht has demanded that the dera, called Dera Sacha Sauda, be closed and Ram Rahim arrested. Certain Khalsa Sikh groups have organized themselves into a Khalsa Action Committee to enforce the edicts (“Khalsa Action Committee” 2007). 76 V. Van Dyke There is a caste component to this conflict as well, as many of the followers of Dera Sacha Sauda, and other deras where the religious affiliation is syncretistic or less clear- cut, are dalits or scheduled castes—both terms refer to the same lowest group within the caste hierarchy.19 Such a dera, according to Ronki Ram (2007: 4066), provides the “socio- spiritual space” for non- Jat Sikhs that is both a political threat and a “serious challenge to the Sikh-Khalsa identity.” Ram argues that the low- caste adherents of these deras who have run afoul of orthodoxy represent a “near- exodus of dalits from Sikhism.” This impacts the Jat- dominated SGPC and Akali Dal, which have never commanded the unwavering support of lower- caste Sikhs, who often vote for the Congress. In fact, Baba Gurmeet Ram Rahim had instructed his followers to vote for the Congress in the last assembly election in 2007, and many observers attribute Congress’s win of twelve seats in an Akali stronghold to this factor. So, this conflict relates to power issues, as well as issues of identity. Chief Minister Badal, however, apparently does not want to alienate the followers of these types of deras or the Sikhs who are opposed to them. For this reason, his response has been measured. Ronki Ram argues that the response to this controversy is tempered within the Akali Dal by a concern for the “hard earned peace in the state” (Ram 2007: 4071). Still, more militant groups are calling for direct action by the community, and disparaging Badal’s moderate stance, in a scenario that looks much like 1978. Certainly, the electoral responses to those attempting to generate enthusiasm over ideas drawn from the militant era do not suggest much support. Kumar argued in 1999 that history was to some extent repeating itself as Badal and SGPC President Tohra attempted to outdo each other in showing who was most sympathetic with the symbols of militancy, thereby reintroducing a “competitive religiosity” that stems from factional fights (Pramod Kumar 1999: 306). Yet, ultimately, this factional division was reconciled by the voters. Tohra was at that time allied with Akal Takht Jathedar Bhai Ranjit Singh, whose life sentence for killing the head of the Sant Nirankaris back in the 1980s had been commuted in 1997 by the president (Swami 1997). Once released from prison and installed as jathedar (he had been appointed from Tihar Jail in 1990), his pronouncements resonated as a possible harbinger of renewed militancy, although Bhai Ranjit Singh argued that he was never a supporter of Khalistan, only a proponent of a distinct Sikh identity. His insistence that gurdwaras outside of India do away with the tables and chairs that had been introduced for eating the communal meal (langar) and resume eating seated on the floor in the traditional manner, led to violence in Canada between those who supported this move and those who opposed it (“The Rediff Interview” 1999). The factional fight between Badal and Tohra led to Tohra pulling hissup- porters out of the Badal ministry and creating his own party, the Sarb Hind Shi- romani Akali Dal (All India SAD, SHSAD) in 1999. This faction contested the general elections that year in alliance with several Akali Dal factions, including the pro- Khalistan Akali Dal (Amritsar), and the Bahujan Samaj Party (Party of the Majority, BSP). The SHSAD did not win a single seat (although it did win 5 The Khalistan movement in Punjab 77 percent of the vote), while the SAD (Amritsar) won one, the seat of pro- Khalistan politician Simranjit Singh Mann. The SHSAD along with its allies failed to win any seats in the 2002 assembly elections, although it had expanded its scope and renamed itself the Shiromani Akali Dal Panthic Morcha (SAD Front of the Sikh Community), now comprising several Akali Dal factions and organizations of sants. Gurcharan Singh Tohra then reconciled with the Badal faction in 2003. Again, in the run up to the 2007 assembly elections, various militant-affiliated factions, and/or factions opposed to Badal’s dominance of the party, attempted to create a viable opposition to Badal. This was exemplified by a very public and physical clash when Simranjit Singh Mann and his supporters tried to gain entrance to the dais on which a program was being held in honor of the birthday of a historical Sikh saint. The Badal faction of the Akali Dal and the SGPC had organized the events on the stage, and refused to allow Mann and his colleagues access (Rataul 2006). Following this altercation, Akali Dal factions and militant groups attempted to create a common platform to contest the elections. These groups included the SAD (Mann), the Dal Khalsa, Prem Singh Chandumajra’s SAD (Longowal), Paramjit Singh Sarna’s SAD (Delhi), the Akali Dal 1920, along with other splinter groups, and former militants (“Poll Ammo” 2006). This effort was not successful and, in fact, some of these faction leaders were co- opted by Badal’s faction of the Akali Dal even before the elections. Some politicians may have joined hands with the dissidents to create an advantageous position for themselves in negotiating a return to Badal’s faction. Some had an ideological predisposition that Akali politics should be religious- based and reflect a uniquely Sikh identity. However, the poor election results forthose associated with militant politics demonstrate the importance of democracy in limiting extremism. This trend of moving away from extremism was continued in the most recent 2012 elections. These elections were a disruption of the normal pattern, as the incumbent party was returned to power for the first time in this state. The SAD/ BJP coalition avoided identity politics and campaigned on development issues, while a dissident faction of the Akalis, which had joined hands with the Com- munist Parties, also avoided mixing religion and politics (Ashutosh Kumar 2012). The SAD further restructured its image in giving tickets to eleven Hindus, and in the leadership given by deputy chief minister Sukhbir Singh Badal from a younger and more technologically savvy generation. It is notable that the putative influence of Dera Sacha Sauda did not seem to hold sway in this election (Mahaprashasta 2012). How then does this argument relate to arguments that have been put forward in explaining the Khalistan movement? Brass argues that politics by the Con- gress Party that undermined moderates while promoting extremists is significant in explaining why this movement initially gained so much salience. This argument has become part of “commonsense” explanations by Akali politicians who see any statement that can be construed as pro- Khalistan as coming from those allied with Congress or “playing the Congress game,” that is, trying to divide the 78 V. Van Dyke Akalis by promoting a pro- Khalistani view. Yet, the political situation is quite different now. As argued earlier, the Congress is no longer able to promote factionalism in the Akali Dal to bring governments down as it did before, for two reasons: the alliance between the Akalis and the BJP, and changes in the power structure within the Akali Dal itself. Further, a shift toward federalism increases the likelihood that a functioning democracy will not be readily undermined. However, because some of these conditionalities may be only short- term, it would be too extreme to state that militant politics can never re-emerge.

Notes 1 This chapter is a version of a paper first published in Asian Survey, © 2009 by the Regents of the University of California. Reprinted from Asian Survey, Vol. 49, No. 6, pp. 975–997, by permission of the Regents. 2 Virginia Van Dyke would like to thank Paul R. Brass, Paul Wallace and an anonymous reviewer for insightful and valuable comments during the preparation of this manuscript. She also wishes to thank scholars and religious and political person- alities in Punjab and Delhi who have given generously of their time and expertise over a number of years, especially Gurinder Singh Mann, Harish K. Puri, and Pramod Kumar. 3 Khalsa Sikhs believe that the last Sikh guru, Guru Gobind Singh, conferred religious authority on the Sikh scriptures and on the community as a body. The Sant Nirankaris are considered heretical because they follow a living guru, who has added his own writings to the Sikh scripture. When the Sant Nirankaris held a conference in the holy city of Amritsar on an important Sikh religious holiday, violence broke out between them and some Khalsa Sikhs during which a number of people, mostly Sikhs, were killed. A hukamnama (religious edict) was issued that instructed the Khalsa Sikhs to have no social interchange with the group, and the Sant Nirankari guru was later assassinated. 4 The Shiromani Akali Dal is associated with the Sikh community, but it has never been the case that all Sikhs support this party, and the party has been open to members of other religious communities as of April, 2005. In fact, the party gave tickets to eleven Hindus in the 2012 assembly elections. 5 There is also a demand for justice for the large number of victims, many of them innocent, of extrajudicial killings by the state, which also had a clear policy of torture. See Amiya Rao et al. 1985. That a prominent human rights activist, Jaswant Singh Khalra, was abducted and killed by the police in 1995 while investigating secret police killings and cremations demonstrates the volatility of this issue and the extent of a police cover-up; but it is tempered with frustration with the excesses of the militants, and an attitude that “loafers with guns” should be killed (personal communication). Puri et al. (1999) argue that villages that had supported the militants asserted excesses by the police, while those villages that had fought against the militants did not complain of overzealousness by the police, but just the opposite. 6 The three arenas of political maneuvering are the ministerial wing of the SAD, the organizational wing of the SAD, and the Shiromani Gurdwara Prabandhak Committee (Supreme Management Committee of the Gurdwaras [Sikh temples]) (SGPC), described below. 7 Some of the confusion and debate over this document stems from multiple versions and differing ways of translating Punjabi phrases into English. See Oberoi 1993. 8 The coalition arrangement is functional for both parties as their support bases are completely separate. It is also problematic as few of the policy concerns of the Akalis The Khalistan movement in Punjab 79 are echoed by the BJP. In fact, the BJP has maintained until very recently that Sikhs are Hindus, a position that is anathema to many Sikhs. See Van Dyke 2007. 9 Punjabiyat refers to a type of identity based on belonging to Punjab that could supersede divisive religious-based identity. 10 Punjab was one of two states partitioned between India and Pakistan in 1947. Today, there is a Punjab state in both India and Pakistan. The location of the boundary was drawn on the basis of the religion of the population. Pakistan gained the larger part of the British colonial state of Punjab, including most of the canal colonies, areas where the colonial government had developed a prosperous, irrigated agricultural sector, and kept the capital city of Lahore. Pakistan lost an all- season road to the disputed area of Jammu and Kashmir. During Partition, it is estimated that almost a million people were killed in the transfer of population overall; more than 4 million crossed the border from the Pakistani to the Indian side in Punjab and had to be resettled. In 1966, in response to a long agitation known as the Punjabi Suba movement, Punjab was tri- furcated on a linguistic basis, and became a much smaller, albeit Sikh majority, state. 11 Brass (1989, pp. 1–2) argues that while socioeconomic issues are important during times of “normal” politics, the crisis should be located in the politicization of a conflict over the cultural and religious separateness of the Sikh community, exacerbated and prolonged by the lack of a settlement for specific grievances. Joyce Pettigrew (1995, pp. 55–57), on the other hand, views the Green Revolution as central, particularly the challenge to egalitarian norms creating a “hierarchy unacceptable in Sikh life.” 12 When Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale was killed during Operation Bluestar, many refused to accept his death. Many believed that a blue horse had come down from heaven and spirited him away. 13 Puri 1981, p. 301. This is a common expression. Puri uses this phrase but makes clear that it does not originate with him. 14 One such infamous “cat,” Ajit Singh Poohla, was killed by being set on fire by other inmates while in jail on charges of murder. See Walia 2008; “Controversial Nihang Ajit Singh Poohla Died in PGI Chandigarh.” 15 For a very insightful examination of young men joining religio- nationalist militant groups for “fun” and the “spectacle,” see Verkaaik 2004. Although he focuses on urban street culture, one could draw parallels with the frequently asserted attraction for young men in rural Punjab for a motorcycle and a gun. 16 Puri et al. 1999, pp. 68–71. The methodology of this study is such that all of the inter- views were conducted after the era of militancy was over, and actual participants were not interviewed to give their own assessment. But, using villages as a unit, it is suggestive of how rural Sikhs viewed the militants’ motivation. 17 Interview with T.N. Seshan in Delhi, 1996. 18 Dogra is quoting Dr. Jasbir Singh Ahluwalia, director of the Guru Gobind Singh Foundation. 19 For a discussion on a similar conflict, see Swami 2001.

References “Anandpur Sahib Pact Row Needless, Says Badal”; “Sukhbir Prefers to Keep Mum.” 2009. The Tribune (Chandigarh, India), February 2. www.tribuneindia.com/2009/ 20090202/punjab1.htm. Brass, Paul R. 1989. “Socio-Economic Aspects of the Punjab Crisis.” Punjab Journal of Politics 13, p. 1–2. Brass, Paul R. 1988. “The Punjab Crisis and the Unity of India.” In India’s Democracy: An Analysis of Changing State-Society Relations, ed. Atul Kohli. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 80 V. Van Dyke “Controversial Nihang Ajit Singh Poohla Died in PGI Chandigarh.” 2008. PunjabNews- line, August 29. www.punjabnewsline.com/content/view/11943/108. Chandra Suta Dogra. 2007. “The Morphed Gene.” Outlook, May 28, pp. 62–65. Gill, K.P.S. 1999. “Endgame in Punjab: 1988–93.” Faultlines 1, p. 1. Grewal, J.S. 1994. The Sikhs of the Punjab. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. “Khalsa Action Committee Constituted by Panthic Organizations to Implement Hukam- namas.” 2007. Panthic Weekly, June 6. www.panthic.org/news/125/ARTICLE/3341/ 2007-06-06.html. Kumar, Ashutosh. 2012. “Comment: Just Another Election?” Seminar, 631, March. www. lokniti.org/pdfs_dataunit/ashutosh-kumar-seminar.pdf. Kumar, Pramod. 1999. “Punjab: Changing Political Identity.” In Indian Politics and the 1998 Election: Regionalism, Hindutva, and State Politics, eds. Ramashroy Roy and Paul Wallace. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Kumar, Pramod. 2003. “Electoral Politics in Punjab: From Autonomy to Secession.” In India’s 1999 Elections and 20th Century Politics, eds. Paul Wallace and Ramashray Roy. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Mahaprashasta, Ajoy Ashirwad. 2012. “Bucking the Trend.” Frontline 29(6). www. frontlineonnet.com/fl2906/stories/20120406290601700.htm. McLeod, W.H. 1987. “The Meaning of ‘Sant’ in Sikh Usage.” In The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India, eds. Karine Schomer and W.H. McLeod. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Oberoi, Harjot Singh. 1993. “Sikh Fundamentalism: Translating History into Theory.” In The Fundamentalism Project: Vol. 3. Fundamentalisms and the State, eds. Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Pettigrew, Joyce. 1995. The Sikhs of the Punjab: Unheard Voices of State and Guerrilla Violence. London: Zed Books. “Poll Ammo for Splinter Akali Groups.” 2006. Hindustan Times (Chandigarh), October 27, p. 4. Puri, Harish K. 1981. “Akali Politics: Emerging Compulsions.” In Political Dynamics and Crisis in Punjab, eds. Paul Wallace and Surendra Chopra. Amritsar: Guru Nanak Dev University Press. Puri, Harish K., Paramjit Singh Judge, and Jagrup Singh Sekhon. 1999. Terrorism in Punjab: Understanding Grass Roots Reality. New Delhi: Har- anand Publications. Ram, Ronki. 2007. “Social Exclusion, Resistance, and Deras: Exploring the Myth of Caste- less Sikh Society in Punjab.” Economic and Political Weekly, October 6, pp. 4066–4074. Ramakrishnan, Venkitesh. 1992. “Punjab Paradox: For the Congress (I), Success Begats Failure.” Frontline 9(20), October. Rao, Amiya, Ghose, A., Bhattacharya, S., Ahuja, T., and Pancholi, N.D. 1985. Report to the Nation: Oppression in Punjab. New Delhi: Citizens for Democracy. Rataul, Dharmendra. 2006. “Man(n) Handling Mars Religious Function.” Indian Express (Chandigarh), October 26, p. 1. Shenoy, T.V.R. 1984. “D- Day in Amritsar.” The Week, June 17–23. Singh, Gurharpal. 1996. “Punjab since 1984: Disorder, Order, and Legitimacy,” Asian Survey, April, 36, p. 4. Singh, Harban. 1995. The Encyclopedia of Sikhism. Patiala: Punjab University. Swami, Praveen. 1997. “A Jathedar is Free.” Frontline 14, November 15–28. www. frontline.in/static/html/fl1423/14231220.htm. Swami, Praveen. 2001. “A Godman and a Political Storm.” Frontline 18, p. 22, October 27–November 9. www.frontlineonnet.com/fl1822/18220490.htm. The Khalistan movement in Punjab 81 “The Rediff Interview/Bhai Ranjit Singh.” 1999. Rediff on the NeT, February 15. www. rediff.com/news/1999/feb/15aka12.htm. Tully, Mark and Satish Jacob. 1991. Amritsar: Mrs. Gandhi’s Last Battle. Calcutta: Rupa and Co. Van Dyke, Virginia. 1999. Sadhus, Sants, and Politics: Religious Mobilization and Com- munalism in North India, unpublished dissertation. Seattle: University of Washington. Van Dyke, Virginia. 2007. “ ‘Jumbo Cabinets,’ Factionalism, and the Impact of Fed- eralism: Comparing Coalition Governments in Kerala, Punjab, and Uttar Pradesh.” In India’s 2004 Elections: Grass- roots and National Perspectives, eds. Ramashroy Roy and Paul Wallace. New Delhi: Sage Publications, pp. 116–147. Verkaaik, Oskar. 2004. Migrants and Militants: Fun and Urban Violence in Pakistan. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Walia, Varinder. 2008. “Probe: Book Provoked Poohla Attackers.” The Tribune (Chandi- garh), August 30. www.tribuneindia.com/2008/20080830/punjab1.htm. Wallace, Paul. 1990. “Religious and Ethnic Politics: Political Mobilization in Punjab.” In Dominance and State Power in Modern India: Decline of a Social Order, Vol. 2, eds. Francine R. Frankel and M.S.A. Rao. Delhi: Oxford University Press. Wallace, Paul. 2007. “Countering Terrorist Movements in India: Kashmir and Khalistan.” In Democracy and Counterterrorism: Lessons from the Past, eds. Robert J. Art and Louise Richardson. Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace Press. Yadav, Yogendra. 1992. “Who Won in Punjab? Of the Real Contest.” Frontline, 9(7), April 10, pp. 122–126. 5 Insurgencies of northeast India Ethnic/tribal competition, state responses, and underdevelopment

Lawrence E. Cline

Although receiving minimal attention from outside analysts, the insurgencies in the northeast states of India may represent the seemingly most intractable internal security situations in South Asia. With some political opposition dating back to the formation of the independent nation of India – and with the roots of indigenous unrest even earlier than that – these groups have proven to be an extraordinarily difficult problem for the Indian government to resolve. Both ethnic and tribal identities drive these insurgencies, which are further complicated by inter- ethnic struggles. The level of insecurity in the region, combined with pervasive corruption and governmental missteps, have made reconciliation efforts very problematical. Given the complicated background in the northeast and the large number of insurgent and other armed groups, this chapter must by necessity be more of a survey rather than a detailed examination of each group. One important factor to consider in assessing the security situation in the northeast is that frequently the interaction among the various insurgent groups – both as allies and as bitter enemies – and their political allies are at least as important as those between the insurgents and the Indian government.

The physical and historical environments The so- called Seven Sisters (the states of northeast India – Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, and Tripura) – initially were part of the Ahom Kingdom, followed by Assam. For political reasons, however, Assam was then carved up into the seven Indian states. This area represents a relatively small portion of India, comprising 8.06 percent of territory and 3.73 percent of the population (Ministry of Home Affairs undated). The level of geo- graphical isolation can be noted by the fact that only about 1 percent of the northeast is connected to the rest of India, with the remaining 99 percent bordering other countries, including Nepal, Bhutan, China, Myanmar, and Bangladesh. Virtually all these countries have had significant impact on developments in the northeast. The northeast states – connected to the rest of India by a narrow cor- ridor only about 21 kilometers wide – remain subject to a perception of being an island or periphery cut off from the “mainland.” Geographically and culturally, Insurgencies of Northeast India 83 the seven states represent almost a separate collection of nations from “mainland” India. There are some 200 tribal groups and sub- clans in the area, many of which have had long- standing conflicts with other groups. As Goswami notes, there have been long-standing cleavages in the area: “hill/valley, indigenous/non- indigenous, tribal/non- tribal divides.” (Goswami 2010: 3) These predated the establishment of independent India, but independence did not resolve the underlying issues; arguably, this process may have exacerbated the cleavages. In at least some measure, this was due to a greater desire by the Indian government to establish actual control of the area. The British had seemed content to rule largely through alliances of lesser or greater influence or direct control of local rulers. Essentially, the British were much more interested in using the area as a security buffer. The Indian government’s desire to instill a national identity to the Seven Sisters ran counter to their long-standing experience.

The overall pattern of insurgency There has been a virtual kaleidoscope of groups identified as insurgents in the northeast, with the estimates of existing groups almost constantly changing. Table 5.1 identifies the most important groups impacting the security situation in the northeast. It should be stressed that Table 5.1 represents only some of the more prominent groups. In Assam, there have been some thirty- six groups, and in Tripura, thirty. Other, smaller ephemeral groups have existed throughout the region. In at least some cases, the groups have seemed to have had more a “signaling” function than any particular long-term goals. As one author noted (perhaps with some exaggeration), “the moment they fired a few shots and were organized into a violent movement, not only the ‘power centres’ responded, but powerful government functionaries came running from the Centre. The funds increased, the allo- cations increased.” (Sonal 1994: 16) Before examining the more prominent groups in detail, two general points should be made regarding the plethora of “insurgent” groups. The first is that many are somewhat amorphous in terms of their actual motivations. Distinguishing between those groups that actually have predominant political goals and those that are more akin to criminal organizations can be very difficult. This certainly is not unique to the northeast states – similar patterns can be seen throughout the region – but some of the purportedly political movements may be more akin to “bandit” groups. Although the term bandit may seem archaic, given historical patterns and current activities, this might be the best description of some of the more ephemeral groups in particular. Trying to distinguish criminal groups from small insurgent groups frequently can be problematic: “Insurgency is the biggest business in the northeast. Most of these groups exist only to make money through extortions and kidnappings. Ideology has taken a backseat here.”1 The criminal activities of these various groups have become extraordinarily lucrative, especially since they have apparently have also involved corrupt local governments (Turner and Nepram 2004: 20–22). Table 5.1 List of insurgencies in northeast India

State Insurgent group Ethnic group Date formed Cease-fire Maximum strength

Arunachal Pradesh Arunachal Dragon Khamti 1996(?) – 60 Force (ADF)/ East India Liberation Front Assam United Liberation – 1979 – 2,500 Front of Asom Assam National Democratic Bodo 1993 2005 (continued 3,500 Front of Bodoland attacks) (faction) Assam United People’s Karbi 1999 (formed from 2002 (faction split and 150 Democratic merger of Karbi continued fighting Solidarity National Volunteers as the Karbi Longri and Karbi People’s North Cachar Hills Front) Resistance Force) Assam (also active in Kamtapur Kamtapur 1995 – 300 West Bengal) Liberation Organization Assam Bodo Liberation Bodo 1996 2003 3,000 Tigers Manipur United National Meitei 1964 – 1,500 Liberation Front Manipur Kuki National Army/ Kuki 1988 2005 (expired) 600 Kuki National Organization Manipur Kuki National Kuki (primarily 2005 – 400 Council/Front directed against the (multiple splits) KNA) Manipur People’s Liberation Multiple 1978 – 1,000 Army Manipur People’s Lowland Manipur 1977 – 200 Revolutionary Party of Kangleipak Manipur Kangleipak Meitei 1980 – 100 Communist Party Meghalaya Hynniewtrep Achik Khasi and Achik – Split in 1990s Estimated 55 Liberation Council remaining Meghalaya Achik National Achik 1995 2004 Unknown Volunteer Council Meghalaya Hynniewtrep National Khasi 1992 Leader surrendered in Very small current Liberation Council 2007; some numbers members continue operations Mizoram Bru National Reang 1996 2004 (still under 100 Liberation Front negotiation) Mizoram Hmar People’s Hmar 1987/1995 (split) – 150 Convention- Democracy Nagaland National Socialist Tangkhul Naga (with 1988 – 4,500 Council of some smaller Nagaland (Isak groups) Muivah) Nagaland National Socialist Konyak Naga (with 1988 – 2,000 Council of some smaller Nagaland groups) (Khaplang) Tripura National Liberation Debbarma, Jamatiya, 1989 (split in two – 600 (combined) Front of Tripura Reang, and others groups in 2001) Tripura All Tripura Tiger/ Mostly Debbarma, 1990 1994 1,600 Tribal Force with some other groups Tripura United Bengali Bengali 1999 – Unknown Liberation Front 86 L.E. Cline Even though most of these movements are based on intra-ethnic alliances, subgroups within the ethnic groups have not always been particularly cooperative with each other. Specific clans within the larger ethnic groups commonly have dominated the leadership of insurgent movements that claim to speak for the entire ethnic group (Sonal 1994: 19–20). Clan rivalries also have caused the fracturing of several groups, at times leading to active armed conflicts with re- formed movements. Most groups lack effective central command and control, and generally have not done a noticeably effective job of inculcating strong ideologies among their members. An exception to the leadership issue is each branch of the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN) movements. They are much more hier- archically organized, with detailed regulations for conducting operations and specified chains of command. How well this formal system works in practice is subject to considerable question, however. Both the NSCN (both branches) and the ULFA have stressed military style discipline among its guerrillas, while the Meitei reportedly have operated on a more egalitarian leadership basis (Sonal 1994: 64). How well such discipline has actually taken hold, however, is rather debatable. Likewise, the NSCN in Nagaland and the Meitei groups have done better jobs of working on ideological aspects of their movements, but even they reportedly “have failed to convert their leftist ideology into well defined political concepts relevant to the local conditions.” (Sonal 1994: 27)

Nagaland The Nagas, consisting of some sixteen major sub- clans and living in both northeast India and in Myanmar, launched the first major insurgency in the northeast shortly after World War II and the formation of independent India. One possibly important factor in their feelings of distinctiveness from their Indian rulers is that the majority of Nagas are Christian, particularly Baptist. This element was very clear in a statement by Angami Zapu Phizo, the original leader of the Naga independence movement:

We wish to remain within the fold of the Christian nations, and of the Com- monwealth. If great Russia and mainland China are proud to feel that they follow the ideology of the German Karl Marx, tiny Nagaland is happy to be a follower of Jesus Christ, whom we have come to believe in as our Saviour. (Nibedon 2000: 28)

The Naga National Council (NNC), the pro- independence movement, petitioned the British government for independence before it turned over control to the Indians, but this petition essentially was ignored by London. The Indian government (unsurprisingly) also did not cooperate with the NNC. As a result, the NNC began organizing a resistance movement, together with a parallel governmental structure in Naga territory in 1954. The NNC began armed operations in 1956 Insurgencies of Northeast India 87 with a strength of some 15,000 active insurgents, indicating widespread dissatisfaction with the status quo. Despite this initial anti-Indian unity, the Nagas rather rapidly fell into three camps, with varying degrees of cooperation and conflict. Phizo, the leader of the NNC, moved to London where he tried to control the NNC long- distance, with rather mixed results. Other Naga leaders concluded that the best option was through the political process. These Nagas were given political offices by the government and became known as the overground movement. Those Nagas who remained underground became known as the “NNC Federal Government.” A third grouping, known as the middle ground, maintained links to both camps. As has been the pattern with virtually all regional insurgent groups, the NNC displayed both a pattern of coalition building and internal splits. The NNC established some links with the governments of neighboring countries for training and supplies, to include Pakistan and China.2 The latter training became particularly contentious, with many Nagas, both underground and overground, adamantly opposing cooperation with the Communists, commonly based on religious grounds. The NNC also formed working alliances with various insurgent movements in Myanmar, and tried to establish coalitions with other insurgent groups in the northeast, with little apparent success (Nag 2003). Splits within the NNC, based largely on tribal loyalties, became much more significant than its putative alliances with other groups and governments. In the 1960s, Kaito Sema, perhaps the best guerrilla commander in the NNC, broke with the movement and began attacking the camps of other leaders. His tribe, the Sema, was one of the two most involved in the NNC, so when he left, it took most of his tribesmen with him. He also formed yet another “government”, the Army Government.3 Yet another dissident faction later formed the Revolutionary Government. On 11 November 1975, the political wing of the NNC signed the Shillong Agreement (to be described later) in which they agreed to accept the inclusion of Nagaland within India and to lay down their weapons. Significantly, however, a large NNC guerrilla group operating out of Myanmar rejected the accord and did not agree to its terms (Nibedon 2000: 370).4 This group then announced its formation of the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN) in 1980, under the leadership of Isak Swu as chairman and Muivah as the general secretary. Very soon afterwards, there was a fresh split among the Naga activists, based largely along tribal lines (Sashinungla 2005). This resulted in two competing groups, the NSCN- IM led by Isak and Muivah and the NSCN-K led by S.S. Khaplang. These groupings split even further in 2011, with members of the NSCN- K expel- ling Khaplang, resulting in two wings of this faction (Hussain 2011). As with the NNC, both NSCN factions have been active in trying to establish coalitions with other groups. They both provide training facilities for other insurgent groups, in large part apparently as a fund raising activity. At least in part, they also view such possible coalitions as a means of countering the other NSCN faction. The NSCN- IM and the NSCN- K have engaged in sporadic armed clashes, with some resulting in over 100 casualties on each side. Such fratricidal 88 L.E. Cline conflicts continue, with at least ten clashes in 2011, with at least forty- five killed (South Asia Terrorism Portal 2012). These splits are exacerbated by the almost open support for the competing factions by elected officials within Nagaland.

Assam The principal insurgent group in Assam is the United Liberation Front of Asom (ULFA); since this is covered in another chapter, it will not be discussed here. Beyond the ULFA, however, a separate insurgency by the Bodos, one of the larger tribal groups in Assam, has significantly complicated the environment in Assam. Demands of the Bodos have included a free Bodoland, a “democratic socialist society,” and changing the writing of the Bodo language to Roman script. Although not ostensibly a sectarian struggle, the Bodos are predominantly Chris- tian, in common with the Nagas, adding to their sense of separateness within India. The Bodos began their insurgency in 1988 under the leadership of the National Democratic Front of Bodoland (NDFB), with its armed wing, the Bodo Volunteer Force. In large measure, this likely was due to pressures on the Bodos by other tribal groups. This also could potentially be connected to the Bodos simply seeing the advantages that other tribal movements were receiving as a result of their armed movements. The group’s leadership ended hostilities in 1993 after the Indian government established the Bodo Autonomous Council to give the Bodos a greater voice in government. Following this agreement, a rump faction of the NDFB continued armed operations, which later reached agreement with the Indian government in May 2005. Despite this agreement, sporadic NDFB attacks have continued, including an attack on 8 November 2010 in which nine- teen persons were killed on a bus and in markets and a March 14, 2011 ambush against security forces in which eight were killed. A separate group of Bodos operated under the banner of the Bodo Liberation Tigers (BLT), which reached a very tenuous ceasefire with the government in 2000. Overall, the Bodo groups conducted more attacks against other tribes than they have against Indian security forces, suggesting that inter- tribal dynamics are the most important factor in their existence. At times, thousands of other tribal members have been displaced in fear of Bodo operations. As a result, members of other tribes have armed themselves, further exacerbating the already poor security situation (Sahni 2001). One reflection of the inter- tribal aspect in Assam is the sheer number of ethnic militias and purported insurgent groups. There are some fifteen Muslim groups, most notably the Muslim United Liberation Front of Assam, representing the Muslim- majority provinces, with demands for forming a Muslim state. The Dima Halong Daoga (also called Dima Halim Daogah) represents the Dimasa tribe and demands a separate state to be formed out of part of Assam and some neighboring areas. Likewise, the Kamtapur Liberation Organisation is fighting for a state for the Koch- Rajbongshi tribes. Other smaller insurgent groups include the Tiwa National Revolutionary Force, Bengal Tiger Force, Rabha National Security Force, People’s United Liberation Front, Karbi National Insurgencies of Northeast India 89 Volunteers, Karbi Longri North Cachar Hills Liberation Front, United Libera- tion Front of Barak Valley, Adivasi Security Force/Adivasi Cobra Force, and Gorkha Tiger Force. Many of these groups are ephemeral, forming, fracturing, and spawning new groups in short order. Much of their rationale is connected with continuing tensions between various ethnic groups, occasionally spilling over into massacres and ethnic killings.

Manipur The emergence of armed groups in Manipur appears connected mostly with inter- tribal conflicts, with attacks against government security forces largely a spillover from this. There are somewhere around thirty separate insurgent groups, with a reported 10,000 members among them. The rather peculiar tribal structure in Manipur almost certainly has had a great deal to do with breeding unrest among the various groups living there:

Nearly ninety per cent of the landmass of Manipur comprises is hill areas, and the remaining ten per cent constitutes the Imphal Valley. The Valley is home to the Vaishnavite (Hindu) Meiteis, who comprise more than fifty per cent of the State’s population, and the Muslim Meitei-Pangals. The hills are exclusively reserved for the ‘tribals’ – mainly Nagas and Kukis. The State has a peculiar land tenure system . . . under which the hill tribes are allowed to settle in the Valley, but no Meitei or Meitei-Pangal is allowed to buy land or settle in the hills. The Meiteis are, moreover, classified as non-tribals, and consequently denied benefits under various reverse discrimination provisions that create reservations in jobs and educational institutions for the tribals. (Sahni 2001)

This system obviously has created a sense of grievance among the Meitei. The Meitei goals are rather typical of those elsewhere in the region: a separate homeland, to include a return to traditional cultural practises. Some groups also have pushed to restore the traditional Meitei religion. The United National Liberation Front (UNLF ) is the largest of the Meitei groups, although it faced a major setback as early as 1971 when most of its leadership was arrested during the Bangladesh war. Along with the UNLF, other Meitei groups include the Revolutionary Government of Manipur, People’s Revolutionary Party of Kangleipak (PREPAK), Kangleipak Communist Party (KCP), and the People’s Liberation Army. The Meitei have made occasional efforts to form alliances with other tribal groups, but these moves have shown few long- term results. Unsurprisingly, other tribes have formed their own groups to resist the Meitei and to support their own aspirations. At least four tribal groups have formed armed groups, most notably the Kuki. These groups have fought not only the Meitei, but also each other. A further complication is that the Naga NSCN-IM has conducted significant operations in the Naga- inhabited areas of Manipur. Several groups also 90 L.E. Cline have been formed by the Muslim inhabitants of Manipur, including the People’s United Liberation Front, North East Minority Front, Islamic National Front, Islamic Revolutionary Front, and United Islamic Liberation Army.

Tripura Tripura has faced a somewhat different demographic environment than the other states. Tripura faced a wave of immigration from East Bengal, later Bangladesh, to the extent that the original population has in fact reached minority status (Kumar 2003). Not only did the population shift dramatically, but Bengali was adopted as the official state language in replacement of the native language. Groups to “protect” the native population formed as early as 1947, but particularly intensified in 1967 with the formation of the Tripura Upajati Juba Samiti (Tripura Tribals’ Youth League, TUJS). The underground wing of the TUJS later morphed into the Tripura National Volunteers (also called the Tribal National Volunteers) which became the principal insurgent movement in the state. While the Tripura National Volunteers reached a ceasefire with the government in 1988, several factions – most notably the National Liberation Front of Tripura and the All Tripura Tiger Force – continued resistance. All the movements were marked by factionalism extreme even by regional standards. The government succeeded in convincing insurgents to surrender en masse – at times including entire insurgent groups – but new groups seemingly formed almost as fast as the surrenders occurred. Most of the various guerrilla groups focused their attacks overwhelmingly on civilians. All the existing groups also made a virtual cottage industry of extortion and kidnappings. As with other groups, the underground movements in Tripura have been informally incorporated in the normal political process:

The nexus between political parties and insurgent groups in Tripura has become stable over the years: “the NLFT is said to have close linkages with the Congress (I), while the ATTF is aligned with the ruling left front.” The insurgent organisations have adopted the strategy of election-eve violence specifically targeting the civilian population in an effort to engineer the victory of the political party whom they support. (Kumar 2003)

Nevertheless, the level of violence in Tripura has dropped sharply over the last five years.

Mizoram, Meghalaya, and Arunachal Pradesh The remaining three states in the northeast are relatively stable in comparison with the others. Each has experienced multiple insurgent groups, but the levels of violence have been less than the other three states. The major tribal groupings having formed militias cum insurgent movements have included the Khasi, the Insurgencies of Northeast India 91 Achik, the Garo, and the Khamti. The principal threat in Arunachal Pradesh has been overflow insurgent operations by both the NSCN- IM and the NSCN- K, to include pitched battles between the two factions.

Trends in violence in the northeast states Table 5.2 helps indicate trends within the various states as to the levels of violence. It illustrates two time periods for comparison: the ten- year period from 1992 to 2001, and the five-year period from 2007 to 2011. A few points should be made about the data in Table 5.2. In both Assam and Manipur, there was a sharp reduction in civilian casualties in 2010 and 2011. Likewise, the casualties among insurgent groups in Manipur were much lower in the same years. In the case of Nagaland, although there appeared to be a significant increase in civilian casualties during the more recent years, of the sixty- six civilians killed from 2007 to 2011, forty-two fatalities were in 2008; with the exception of 2008, the rate of civilian casualties remained rather low.

The Indian response: reconciliation and counterinsurgency Subir Bhaumik has argued that the Indian approach in the northeast:

has been largely influenced by the realpolitik propounded by the great Kauti- lya, who helped . . . build India’s first trans-regional empire just after Alexan- der’s invasion of Northern India. Kautilya advocated Sham (Conciliation), Dam (Bribes), Danda (Force) and Bhed (Split) as the four options of statecraft to be used in effective combinations rather than as a single, stand-alone option. (Bhaumik 2007: 6)

Table 5.2 Death toll from insurgencies in northeast India

State 1992–2001 2007–11

Civilians Security Insurgents Civilians Security Insurgents killed forces killed killed forces killed killed killed

Arunachal 72 21 39 2 3 68 Pradesh Assam 2,465 613 1,418 751 93 621 Manipur 87* 50* 100* 409 89 1,014 Meghalaya 63 50 27 19 12 54 Mizoram 6 16 23 4 4 7 Nagaland 13* 4* 82* 66 2 211 Tripura 2,082 296 255 27 12 40

Source: data extracted from South Asia Terrorism Portal. Note * Data from 1992 to 1999; data for 2000 and 2001 is not available. 92 L.E. Cline As discussed below, it might be very arguable that the Indian government has in fact had a long- term strategic framework for its strategy in the northeast, with many of its actions seemingly more reactive than a result of careful strategic planning. Nevertheless, the government has in fact used all these tools in its efforts in the area. As such, these categories of response provide a good template for examining Indian efforts. The Indian conciliation process has seen some successes, but as one author (Rajagopalan 2008: 2) correctly noted, the “negotiating process is piecemeal and endless.” The author specifies four major issues with the Indian approach:

First, important stakeholders are often left out of the peace process, deliberately or accidently. Second, a signatory organization can split, with dissenters forming other armed groups. Third, an accord may address the concerns of one group at the expense of another. . . . Finally, accords have a demon- stration effect that prompts other communities and groups to demand the same privileges. (Rajagopalan 2008: 3–4)

The issues noted by Rajagoplan essentially have been apparent throughout the northeast states. As such, it likely is unnecessary to cover each state individually in terms of peace agreements or cease- fires: virtually all have been marked by a pattern of negotiations, agreements or cease- fires signed, splits among the insurgent groups signing these agreements, fresh fighting, and yet more efforts at negotiations. Rather than a state- by-state account, it might be better to use Nagaland as a particularly good example of efforts at conciliation. Efforts to resolve potential issues with the Nagas actually began before formal Indian independence, when the formative Indian government signed an agreement with the Nagas in 1947 that their status as “Indians” would be reassessed in ten years. Despite this agreement – which was limited to Naga “moderates” – other Nagas began armed resistance to what they viewed as Indian occupation. The 1960 so- called Sixteen- Point Agreement led to the formation of the State of Nagaland. Again, however, this was an agreement with those whom the Indian government identified as moderates, and it simply did not satisfy the more militant elements. In March 1975, the Indian government decreed President’s Rule in Nagaland. Although it is uncertain that this had any direct impact on the willingness of the insurgents to negotiate, by 11 November 1975, the Naga groups and the government signed the Shillong Agreement to end the fighting. This agreement was particularly simple, with only three primary clauses. The first was that the “underground organisations” would “accept, without condition, the Constitution of India”; underground weapons would be deposited at appointed places; and that “representatives of the underground organisations should have reasonable time to formulate other issues for discussion for final settlement.” (South Asia Terror Portal undated) Clearly, the Shillong Agreement failed to stop the fighting – which in many ways has become worse since – but it provided a template for later peace agreements. Insurgencies of Northeast India 93 Despite the complications of dealing with the two insurgent factions after the split in the NSCN, the government has managed to conclude cease- fires with both more recent Naga groups. The NSCN-IM group agreed to a cease-fire in 1997 and the NSCN- K in 2000. Each of these agreements was very much unilateral, and neither was particularly effective. Typically, as one faction would reach an agreement with the government, the other insurgent leaders would accuse it of being traitorous, and redouble their own efforts. Finally, in June 2009, the NSCN- IM, NSCN- K, and the government reached what was called the Covenant of Reconciliation, signed in Thailand. Although there has been some backsliding by some Naga elements, the leadership reaffirmed the agreement in December 2011. Following the signing of the treaty, violence dropped significantly from its peak in 2008 (South Asia Terrorism Portal 2012).5 One potentially promising development is that the NSCN- IM publicly has given up its demand for complete Nagaland sovereignty. This may be more than offset, however, by continued insistence on the incorporation of Naga- inhabited areas in other Indian states into a “greater” Nagaland (Hussain 2005). One group which was very important in the initial peace process was the Nagaland Baptist Church Convention (NBCC). At its third convention on Febru- ary 2, 1964, the NBCC offered the services of senior church officials to form what it called the Peace Mission (Nagaland Informatics Centre undated). The insurgents clearly viewed the church officials as a more honest broker than they did the government. Likewise, it probably was more politically palatable for the government to use interlocutors in dealing with the insurgents. Although the peace negotiators managed to sign a ceasefire in September 1964, violence rather quickly re- emerged. Despite the continuing violence, negotiations were resumed by the Nagaland Peace Council, with significant efforts by the NBCC. It should be noted that the use of religious leaders also has been rather effective in other states, notably Mizoram, where the initial impetus for peace talks was through local religious leaders (Satapathy 2004). Beyond the religious establishment, a number of other civil society groups also have been active in reconciliation efforts in Nagaland. One prominent civil lobby has been the women of Nagaland organized in the Naga Mothers’ Associ- ation and the Naga Women’s Union of Manipur. According to one study, the main roles of these groups have been in “protecting communities through informal mediation”, “shaping and sustaining the formal peace process”, and “mobilizing for peace and reconciliation.” (Manchanda 2005: viii–ix) Other groups such as the Naga Students’ Federation and the Naga People’s Movement for Human Rights also have been involved to a greater or lesser extent in the peace efforts in the state.6 These various civic groups – particularly the church leaders – have offered some valuable channels to keep channels of communications open between the various actors when there is minimal trust. One reason that civil groups may be particularly useful in reconciliation efforts in the northeast is the perceived and real corruption among local governments (Haokip 2002).7 The corruption traditionally has been sufficiently severe that various forms of economic support and programs for reconciliation likely 94 L.E. Cline have been at least partially siphoned off by local government officials. The overall perception of corruption also almost certainly has a corrosive effect on trust between the citizenry – including insurgents – and the government officials with whom they are negotiating. As noted, not every state’s efforts at reconciliation will be covered, since many of the patterns are the same or similar. Essentially, negotiations have centered around establishing cease-fires, with some concessions offered by the government as a “sweetener.” In general, these have been something of a stopgap measure, with few having overall permanence in completely ending the violence. Also, most negotiations have centered around conflicts between insurgents and the government, with considerably less attention paid to inter-communal violence. In a few cases, the groups’ demands have been sufficiently extreme that there were almost no prospects of opening viable negotiations; the UNLF was a good example of this.8 Falling somewhat between conciliation and bribes, the Indian government has managed to achieve a number of rather well choreographed mass surrenders of insurgents. The Indian government has devised several plans for inducing guerrillas to surrender, to include rehabilitation camps where combatants can be trained in new skills and can receive bounties for weapons.9 This has been particularly noticeable in recent years. For example, the majority of the Bodo Liber- ation Tigers surrendered en masse on December 6, 2003. More recently, on January 24, 2012, 1,855 militants from nine separate groups surrendered to government control in a highly publicized ceremony attended by senior government officials. These militants were from the Adivashi Peoples Army (APA), All Adi- vashi National Liberation Army (AANLA), Santhal Tiger Force (STF ), Birsa Commando Force (BCF ), Adivashi Cobra Military of Assam (ACMA), Kuki Liberation Army (KLA)/Kuki Liberation Organisation (KLO), Hmar People’s Convention (HPC), United Kukigam Defence Army (UKDA), and Kuki Revolu- tionary Army (KRA). One note of interest in this was that although nearly 2,000 insurgents surrendered, only 201 weapons were surrendered by them (The Hindu January 24, 2012). The ratio of insurgents surrendering to the number of weapons turned in is highlighted because this has been somewhat of a pattern in earlier staged mass surrenders. Viewed in the most positive light for the Indian government, this would suggest that many of the insurgent groups are not particularly well armed. The other possibility is that many of those who have surrendered have been in support or non- fighter roles. The other prospects, however, are much less optimistic. The first is that although formally returning to government control, members of these groups are caching their weapons for possible later use. The other possibility is that the insurgents are selling their weapons to other groups or criminals before surrendering; if so, the potential for cascading violence remains high. Bribery certainly has played a role both in these surrenders and in the larger reconciliation efforts. In virtually all the states facing unrest, insurgent leaders who have turned themselves over to the government have received various Insurgencies of Northeast India 95 rewards, including government positions, help with establishing businesses, or both. One particular reward system for surrendered insurgents deserves quoting in length to show how extensive some of these programs have been and why they may have been somewhat counterproductive:

Two ‘surrender schemes’ have been devised in Assam, the first of these in 1992 and the second in 1998. Chief Minister Hiteshwar Saikia’s government launched the “100 Per Cent Special Margin Money Scheme” on June 1, 1992, with the objective of ‘rehabilitating surrendered terrorists’. Specifi- cally, the scheme provided:

• Benefits up to Rs. 200,000 per individual, of which Rs. 100,000 came as a bank loan. • In case of partnerships, the ceiling was increased up to Rs. 1,000,0000, of which 250,000 constituted margin money and the balance was a bank loan. • For cooperative societies formed by ‘misguided youths’, the scale of benefits was further enhanced to Rs. 2,000,000, with margin money up to Rs. 500,000, and the rest as a bank loan. • The State government stood as guarantor against the bank loans. • After an initial three- year moratorium, the loan repayment was to start in the fourth year, and was to be completed within eight years, including the three-year moratorium period. • The schemes identified rehabilitation including the setting up of industrial, transport, agricultural, veterinary and fishery units, and other business undertakings.

The present Governor of Assam, Lt. Gen. (Retd) S.K. Sinha summed up the essence of the scheme: each of the Surrendered United Liberation Front of Asom (SULFA) cadres “was given Rs 2.5 lakh cash and Rs 1.5 lakh soft loan, which was never returned. They were allowed to retain their weapons as well.” (Sahni and Routray 2001)

Several points should be made about this and similar governmental programs for surrendered insurgents. First, they do appear to have had some success in achieving mass surrenders. Having said that, however, the financial rewards for those participating are significant. Some inhabitants who feel that such schemes might be offered in their region may find it in their interest to become a “temporary terrorist.” Whether the Indian government actually distinguishes between long- term, “hard core” insurgents and hangers- on in its surrender figures is very difficult to discern; for political reasons, however, it is likely that it is in the government’s interest to “pad the books” on the numbers of insurgent surrenders. Although the thrust in this discussion is on the political efforts by the Indian government to reach various forms of reconciliation with the northeast insurgent 96 L.E. Cline groups, some comments on the “hard” counterinsurgency efforts by Indian security forces should be noted as part of the possible four- prong strategy. In theory, at least, Indian counterinsurgency doctrine should support the larger reconciliation strategies. Indian army doctrine stresses that objectives in low intensity conflict and counterinsurgency (what is officially described as “sub conventional operations”) should be “the synergy of military actions interlaced with purposeful civic action conducted in a reassuring political environment that ushers in a confidence of the masses in the governance.” (Headquarters Integrated Defence Staff 2010: iv) The doctrine also focuses on the primacy of civil control and political resolutions for conflict, together with the use of legal systems in dealing with opponents, with “the battle to be fought primarily by the civilian administration using police organizations.” (Headquarters Integrated Defence Staff 2010: 9) It should also be noted that Indian military doctrine specifically identifies the northeast as a particularly problematic area, noting that “terrorism arises from a strong feeling of alienation from the mainstream of India and a conviction that the Central Government should be more active in North- Eastern affairs.” (Headquarters Integrated Defence Staff 2010: 14) Although the formal structures of civilian operational control are not as formally laid out in the Indian army doctrine as in British doctrine, the coordinated approach of Indian doctrine clearly owes much to the doctrinal underpinnings of its erstwhile colonial rulers. Supporting tactical doctrine also stresses the need to gain popular support and a strict code of conduct in dealing with civilians. The code of conduct of ten points would seem ideal for maintaining good relations with the populace if actually followed. (Headquarters Army Training Command 2004: 56) At least some human rights reports indicate abuses by Indian security forces (particularly in earlier periods of the counterinsurgency campaign), but the army seems to be making very sincere efforts to reduce systemic abuses. To at least some degree, the same cannot be said for many of the police forces in the region. As one Indian army officer noted, “When the Army sees the Police enriching itself at check points on highways, the suspicion and hostility chokes communication.” (Sonal 1994) Reports suggest that these attitudes have split the government’s response in a number of cases. Overall, however, it has been argued that the underlying legal structure of Indian operations in the northeast – The Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act 1958 – has helped lead to an over- militarization of the Indian government response and hindered adequate political efforts toward reconciliation. (Goswami 2010: 1–14) The final strategic “prong” is that of splitting the insurgent groups and splitting them from their support bases. As noted by Bhaumik (2007: 5), a key element of overall Indian political strategy has been co- option of the various insurgent groups. By co- opting at least elements of insurgent movements – particularly key leaders – the Indian government has succeeded in splitting many movements. It is, however, somewhat difficult to judge how much these internal struggles within particular insurgent groups have been the direct result of governmental plans versus the inherent fissiparous nature of the movements themselves. It could be argued that Insurgencies of Northeast India 97 leadership struggles, tensions between sub-tribal clans and communities, and competition over resources (legal and illegal) may have played at least as important a role as has a deliberate strategy. One other approach that the government has taken has been to approach regional unrest in terms of individual tribes and ethnic groups (Goswami 2010: 4–5). The government has implemented varying degrees of autonomy for particular tribal groups, but this certainly has been a double-edged sword strategically. As particular groups have been singled out for special attention, particularly increased autonomy, other groups have increased their demands in response. Any suggestion of the government favoring certain groups commonly has resulted in intercommunal violence, frequently severe. The government’s treatment of the various ethnic groups appears to be much less a deliberate policy of “divide and conquer” than it does as being a short- term reaction to political and security requirements.

Conclusions and prospects The scorecard for Indian government efforts at reconciliation and other approaches to the insurgent groups shows both positive and negative outcomes. The major positive result has been largely eliminated major anti- government operations by the widely based insurgent groups. Assuming no major changes in the overall political environment in India, it is virtually inconceivable that any of the remaining movements could actually overthrow state governments through violence. Even the major groups such as ULFA and the two factions of the NSCN appear limited in their strategic capabilities. Likewise, overall levels of violence by insurgent groups have dropped in most northeast states in recent years. There have been several negatives, however. Reconciliation, although bringing a number of insurgents more or less back within the system, has left a number of “irreconcilables” outside the system. Also, the concomitant fracturing of these groups has led to a virtual kaleidoscope of smaller groups producing a hugely complicated environment for the Indian political and security systems. The resulting requirement for multiple serial negotiations to bring the more militant elements of particular ethnic groups into the process can be extremely complex, especially since demands can become more extreme. The second major problem for reconciliation is that by acceding to ethnic demands from the insurgent groups and their supporters, the government may aggrieve other ethnic groups. In some cases, successful negotiations have led even to the redrawing of state borders to comply with ethnic desires; typically, the government seemingly has not considered the impact on the wishes of other ethnic groups. In many cases, the competing demands are essentially a zero- sum game: acceding to the demands of one group likely will result in increased violence by another. The resulting intercommunal violence can be more difficult to resolve than can anti-governmental violence. Finally, the sheer volume of small- scale operations by multiple groups can result and has resulted in a significant corrosive impact on public perceptions of 98 L.E. Cline security and the actual security environment. This is complicated by the situation that even as the insurgent groups shrink, in many cases the remaining members convert into criminal gangs. Frequently, it is in fact difficult to tell if some groups are insurgents or purely criminal. Patterns of operations – extortion, kidnapping, and bank robberies – are virtually indistinguishable. Whether their motives for violence are political or financial, the activities of these bands have similar results in terms of the security threat they represent. Indian reconciliation efforts and other measures against the insurgent groups in the northeast certainly have borne some fruit. No state in the northeast continues to face an existential threat, and many of the larger groups have either reconciled with the government (to a greater or lesser extent) or have reduced their anti-government operations. At the same time, however, some significant threats and challenges remain throughout the region. Although progress has been made, it is very unlikely that the Seven Sisters will see sustained improvements in the security environment faced by their populace.

Notes 1 Unnamed senior Indian army official quoted in George (2004). 2 Nibedon (2000: 131–205) provides extensive details on the developments in this link. One interesting aspect of the training was that the Chinese apparently minimized the amount of ideological education they offered, and permitted the Nagas to hold church services, read Bibles, and the like. At the same time, however, a number of the NNC members apparently had significant exposure to Marxist ideology. At least one Naga leader also reportedly traveled to North Vietnam courtesy of the Chinese to study their operations against the US. 3 Kaito later was assassinated by the mainstream NNC. 4 At least in part, this was a result of an incident in which a delegation of the group who had returned to Nagaland to find out more about the terms of the accord was seized by Indian security forces. Details remain murky about the details of why this occurred. (Nibedon 2000: 370) 5 The total killed in 2008 was 145 as compared to eighteen in 2009, three in 2010, and ten in 2011. It should be noted that these figures do not include “fractricides.” (South Asia Terrorism Portal 2012) 6 For a detailed discussion of the various actors, see Das (2007: 22–35). 7 For a series of detailed reporting on this, see www.cmsindia.org. 8 The group’s demands include a UN- supervised plebiscite on independence, deployment of a UN peacekeeping force, and a simultaneous Indian military withdrawal and handover of insurgent weapons to the UN. (South Asia Intelligence Review March 14, 2005) 9 For the text of the 1998 published Assamese government plan, see “Scheme for Surrender- Cum-Rehabilitation of Militants in the North- East: Government of Assam.” Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/india/states/assam/documents/papers/Sur- render.htm. Last accessed June 15, 2013.

References Bhaumik, Subir (2007) Insurgencies in India’s Northeast: Conflict, Co- option and Change. Policy Studies No. 10. Washington, D.C.: East-West Center. Insurgencies of Northeast India 99 Das, Samir Kumar (2007) Conflict and Peace in India’s Northeast: The Role of Civil Society. Policy Studies No. 42. Washington, D.C.: East-West Center. George, A.N. (2004) North East, Not Best. October 10. Available: www.mid- day.com/ news/nation. Last accessed March 18, 2012. Goswami, Uddipana (2010) ‘Armed in Northeast India: Special Powers, Act or No Act’, Peace and Conflict Review 4/2: 1–14. Haokip, Paolienlal (2002) Counter- Insurgency in the North- East: A Counter-Perspective . Available: www.ipcs.org. Last accessed December 15, 2005. Headquarters Army Training Command (2004) Indian Army Doctrine. October. Shimla, India: Headquarters Army Training Command. Headquarters Integrated Defence Staff (2010) JP- 7 Joint Doctrine for Sub Conventional Operations. January. New Delhi: Headquarters Integrated Defence Staff. Hussain, Wasbir (2005) Naga Talks: Jeopardizing the Peace. February 7. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/sair/index.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. Hussain, Wasbir (2011) Nagaland: Revolt within a Rebellion. Available: www.satp.org/ satporgtp/sair/Archives/sair9/9_49.htm#assessment1. Last accessed May 5, 2012. Kumar, Praveen (2003) Tripura: Beyond the Insurgency- Politics Nexus. Available: www. satp.org/satporgtp/publication/faultlines/volume14/Article6.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. Manchanda, Rita (2005) Naga Women Making a Difference: Peace Building in North- eastern India. January. Washington: Women Waging Peace Policy Commission. Ministry of Home Affairs, Government of India (undated) North East States. Available: http://mha.nic.in/neview.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. Nag, Sajal (2003) North East: A Comparative Analysis of Naga, Mizo, and Meitei Insurgencies. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/publications/faultlines/volume14. Last accessed December 12, 2005. Nagaland Informatics Centre (Nagaland State Unit) (undated) “Dawn of Peace in Naga- land”, http://nagaland.nic.in/profile/history/peace.htm. Last accessed April 11, 2012. Nibedon, Nirmal (2000) Nagaland: The Night of the Guerrillas. New Delhi: Lancer. Rajagopalan, Swarna (2008) Peace Accords in Northeast India: Journey over Milestones. Policy Studies No. 46. Washington, D.C.: East-West Center. Sahni, Ajai (2001) Survey of Conflicts and Resolution in India’s Northeast. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/publication/faultlines/volume12/article3.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. Sahni, Ajai and Bibhu Prasad Routray (2001) “SULFA: Terror by Another Name,” Fault- lines Vol. 9, No. 1, July, South Asia Terrorism Portal. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/publication/faultlines/volume9/Article1.htm. Last accessed April 20, 2012. Sashinungla (2005) Nagaland: Insurgency and Factional Intransigence. Available: www. satp.org/satporgtp/publication/faultlines/volume16/Article4.htm. Last accessed Decem- ber 12, 2005. Satapathy, R.K. (2004) Mediating Peace: The Role of Insider- Partials in Conflict Resolu- tion in Mizoram. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/publication/faultlines/volume15/ Article3.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. Sonal, Capt. Ashish (1994) Terrorism and Insurgency in India: A Study of the Human Element. New Delhi: Lancer. South Asia Intelligence Review (2005) Weekly Assessments and Briefing, March 14. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/sair/index.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. South Asia Terrorism Portal (undated) Nagaland Accord: The Shillong Agreement of November 11, 1975. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/india/states/nagaland/ 100 L.E. Cline documents/papers/nagaland_accord_the_shillong_nov_11_1975.htm. Last accessed May 7, 2012. South Asia Terrorism Portal (2004) Weekly Assessments and Briefing, December 13. Available: www.satp.org/satporgtp/sair/index.htm. Last accessed March 20, 2012. South Asia Terrorism Portal (2012) Nagaland Assessment – Year 2012. Available: www. satp.org/satporgtp/countries/india/states/nagaland/index.html. Last accessed March 20, 2012. The Hindu (2012) “North East Militants Surrender before Chidambaram,” January 24. Available: www.thehindu.com/news/states/other-states/article2828558.ece?css=print. Last accessed May 5, 2012. Turner, Mandy and Binalakshmi Nepram (2004) The Impact of Armed Violence in North- east India. November. Bradford: Centre for International Cooperation and Security. ULFA (1999) Boycott India’s Republic Day Celebrations. Available: www.geocities. com/CapitolHill/Congress/7434/freedom0201?200523. Last accessed December 15, 2005. ULFA (2005) ULFA’s Aim and Objects. Available: www.geocities.com/CapitolHill/ Congress/7434/ulfa.htm. Last accessed December 12, 2005. 6 The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka Political/cultural grievance, unsuccessful negotiations, and organizational evolution

Jayadeva Uyangoda

Introduction This chapter presents an analysis of the rise and fall of Tamil ethnic insurgency in Sri Lanka, highlighting the role of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), the principal Tamil rebel group, in shaping the chequered path of the Tamil nationalist project since the 1980s. The chapter locates the LTTE in the larger political process of minority Tamil nationalism in Sri Lanka and argues that the causes of the Tamil ethnic insurgency is primarily political, rather than socioeconomic. The chapter argues that the secessionist insurgency, as well as the LTTE, were products of Tamil nationalism that arose in the early 1950s due to a combination of political and cultural factors. The repeated failure of the Sin- halese ruling elites to reform the Sri Lankan state to accommodate the Tamil demand for regional autonomy and the failure of mainstream Tamil nationalism to secure regional autonomy though parliamentary means constituted the process producing the necessity for a counter-state rebellion for secession. The LTTE was the most ardent practitioner of the secessionist rebellion. The chapter also argues that the military defeat of the LTTE in May 2009, ending a protracted civil war in Sri Lanka, is unlikely to end the ethnic conflict unless the Sri Lankan government inaugurates a new program of state reform enabling the Tamil minority to share state power through regional autonomy. The chapter first offers an account of the background against which the Tamil secessionist insurgency arose and spread, starting in the late 1970s. It also provides a brief historical narrative of the development of the mainstream Tamil nationalism project since the early post- independence years. The next section of the chapter discusses the causes of the ethnic conflict and insurgency, focusing on the primacy of political factors relating to identity politics and state power. The chapter then provides an account of how the insurgency and civil war were repeatedly reproduced by a series of failures of attempts at a negotiated settlement to the conflict. The next focus of the chapter is on the specific characteris- tics of the LTTE that defined its unwavering commitment to a military solution to the Tamil claim for nationhood and statehood. The chapter ends with some 102 J. Uyangoda reflections on the possible trajectories of Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict in its post- LTTE and post-civil war phase.

Background Sri Lanka’s Tamil insurgency began in the late 1970s and escalated in the early and mid 1980s into a full-scale secessionist war against the state. Initially, con- fined primarily to the Northern and Eastern provinces of the island, the violence associated with the insurgency gradually spread to the other areas of the country, particularly to the capital city of Colombo. This secessionist rebellion also took the character of a protracted armed conflict, spread over nearly three decades until it came to an end in May 2009 with the military defeat of its chief prot- agonist, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). The LTTE was one among a number of Tamil militant groups that emerged in the late 1970s to achieve what was termed at the time ‘national self- determination’ for the Sri Lanka Tamils by means of an armed struggle. However, during the mid- 1980s, the LTTE emerged as the dominant Tamil militant group, when it destroyed or weakened all other militant groups. Since 1987, the LTTE remained the only Tamil militant group committed to the armed struggle to win the goal of independence for the Sri Lankan Tamils (Narayan Swamy, 1994). Antecedents of the Tamil insurgency spearheaded by the LTTE are linked to Tamil minority demands for regional autonomy. These demands began to be articulated in the early 1950s, soon after Sri Lanka, then Ceylon, became independent from the British colonial rule.1 That was also the time when postcolonial ethnic nationalist projects in the majority Sinhalese society and the minority Tamil society began to clash with each other. The clash of these two nationalisms was centered on two competing political visions for the postcolonial Sri Lankan state. The Sinhalese nationalist project was to establish the postcolonial Sri Lankan state as a unitary and centralized entity, whereas the Tamil nationalist project sought a federal state in which the Tamils could enjoy regional autonomy in the Northern and Eastern provinces. The Tamil nationalist conception of a federal state was also grounded on the argument that the majority Sinhalese community and the Tamil minority community represented two separate ‘nations’ in the island society. Sri Lanka is a multi-ethnic society with four main ethnic communities comprising its population. Sinhalese are the majority ethnic community, while the Tamils and Muslims represent the two main ethnic minorities. According to the Census Report of 1981, which was the last island- wide census taken before the onset of civil war, the Sinhalese were 73.8 percent of the total population. The Tamils, the largest minority, consist of two groups described officially as the ‘Sri Lankan Tamils’ and the ‘Tamils of Indian origin’ or ‘Indian Tamils.’ Their share of the population in 1981 was 12.7 percent and 5.1 percent respectively. The Sri Lankan Tamils are mainly concentrated in the Northern province and parts of the Eastern province. The so- called Indian Tamils are the descendants of the Tamil agricultural workers brought to Sri Lanka in the late nineteenth and The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 103 the early twentieth centuries from Southern India, in the context of the development of the colonial plantation economy. Meanwhile, the Muslim community, while dispersed throughout the Island, has territorial concentration in some parts of the Eastern province. Both Tamil and Muslim communities speak the Tamil language, while the Sinhalese community speaks the Sinhalese language which is quite distinct from the Tamil. This linguistic peculiarity has also made most of the Sinhalese and Tamil citizens monolingual. Sri Lankan society is also multi- religious, with 65 percent Buddhist, 15 percent Hindu, 8 percent Muslim and another 8 percent Christian. Although the language has been a major issue which has directly contributed to the Sinhalese–Tamil ethnic conflict, religious differences have not been a cause of the conflict, although religious particularism has provided an identity framework for Sinhalese nationalist mobilization. The modern origins of the ethnic conflict go back to the early twentieth century when Sri Lanka was still a British colony. The competition among Sin- halese and Tamil elites, who were products of the social change facilitated by the colonial economy, for gaining access to the colonial state through representation in the colonial legislature during the second decade of the twentieth century, marked the origin of this elite competition. With the partial democratization of the colonial state in the 1930s, consequent to the Donoughmore constitutional reform, the politics of Sinhalese–Tamil elite competition entered a new phase. While the Sinhalese elites quickly learned how representative democracy, based on the majority principle, could be effectively used to exclude ethnic minority groups from exercising even limited power of governance available under the colonial state, the minorities began to fight for equal representation in the colonial legislature. This was immediately after 1936 when a pan- Sinhalese Board of Ministers was formed exposing the vulnerability of the minorities, embedded in the emerging structure of Sri Lanka’s majoritarian democracy. Thus, competition for access to the colonial state institutions and resources was the primary focus of contention in this early and formative phase of Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict. Post- independence Sri Lankan politics has been a story of failure among Sin- halese and Tamil ethnic political elites for ‘accommodation’ (Roberts, 1978; Wilson, 1988, 2000; Tiruchelvam, 2000; DeVotta, 2004) within the rules of the game of parliamentary democracy. The early attempts at inter-ethnic political unity made at the time of independence of 1948 could not last long when the Sinhalese political leadership of the first postcolonial government began to implement public policies that clearly discriminated against the minorities. The citizenship legislation of 1948 and the franchise legislation of 1949 were the two most crucial policy steps taken by the United National Party government, which incidentally had in its cabinet minority representation, that were to have a decisively corroding impact on majority–minority relations. Eventually, these steps were proved to be the beginning of a fairly long process of majoritarian communalization of the post-independent Sri Lankan state. Making Sinhalese the official language in 1956 by the Mahajana Eksath Pera- muna (MEP, People’s United Front) regime further exacerbated the alienation of 104 J. Uyangoda the minorities from the Sri Lankan state now exclusively dominated by the Sin- halese elites. By this time, the communalizing process of the state, which began soon after independence, had provided the backdrop for the emergence of the postcolonial Tamil project seeking regional autonomy through federalist restructuring of the state. Since the early years of the 1950s, Sri Lanka’s political change came to be characterized by the conflict between two ethno- nationalisms, Sinhalese and Tamil, which had put forward two competing state formation projects: consolidation of the unitary state for the Sinhalese and the creation of a federalist unit of regional autonomy for the Tamils. The impossibility of accommodation between these two ethnic political strivings, one majoritarian and the other minoritarian, has been the dominant theme in Sinhala–Tamil ethnic relations during the subsequent decades. Eventually, radicalization of Tamil nationalist politics replaced the demand for regional autonomy with the goal of a separate state. This shift took place during the mid and late 1970s, leading to a campaign for forming a separate state called Tamil Eelam, encompassing the island’s Northern and Eastern provinces, initially by means of electoral mobilization. In 1976, Tamil nationalists also formed a new political movement called the Tamil United Front, which soon became the Tamil United Liberation Front (TULF ), bringing together almost all Tamil nationalist groups under one umbrella. Political developments after 1976, the year when the TULF formally called for a struggle for separation, were crucial for the emergence of the Tamil ethnic insurgency in Sri Lanka, which eventually took over the entire political project of Tamil nationalism. In the parliamentary elections held in 1977, the TULF ’s campaign theme was ‘the right to national self- determination’ of the ‘Tamil- speaking peoples’ of Sri Lanka. The TULF sought a mandate from the Tamil people to work towards forming a separate state in pursuit of national self- determination, although the formulation ‘Tamil-speaking peoples’ included the Muslims as well. The TULF won eighteen out of twenty-two parliamentary seats in the Northern and Eastern provinces in the legislature of 195 members, even becoming the second largest party in parliament, next to the United National Party (UNP), which won 145 seats, more than a two-thirds majority. The TULF, while seeking its mandate to campaign for a separate state, also anticipated a negotiated compromise solution within a federalist framework. However, the UNP government was not in a mood to accommodate federalism. Instead, the government proposed an alternative called District Development Councils (DDCs) which were to be mere institutions of administrative decentralization, subjected to control of the central government (Loganathan, 1996, 71–80). This was the context in which the militant youth groups who had taken up arms could argue for the futility of the strategy of mass mobilization and negotiation and offer to Tamil society the vision of a ‘liberation struggle’ to be achieved by means of armed struggle, as the only available option. Besides the LTTE, there were a few other militant movements advocating the armed struggle. Initially, some of these groups were stronger than the LTTE in terms of popular support and insurgent capacity. Leading among them were Tamil Eelam Liberation The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 105 Organization (TELO), Eelam People’s Liberation Front (EPRLF ), People’s Lib- eration Organization for Tamil Eelam (PLOTE), and Eelam Revolutionary Organization of Students (EROS). The anti-Tamil ethnic riots of July 1983 were a key turning point in ethnic politics in Sri Lanka (Tambiah, 1986; Kapferer, 1988; Manor, 1984; Spencer, 1990; Krishna, 1999). The riots began in Colombo soon after the funeral of thirteen Sinhalese soldiers killed in Jaffna in an ambush launched by the LTTE. This was by far the highest number of military casualties suffered by the Sri Lankan state in one incident, in the course of the emerging Tamil rebellion. The funeral of the thirteen soldiers generated an emotionally volatile response from sections of the Sinhalese society, particularly from those who had been mobilizing a Sin- halese nationalist response to Tamil militant violence and insurgency. They went on a campaign of violence against Tamil civilians in Colombo, the capital city, which soon spread to other cities and villages. Many Tamils were killed and their property destroyed in one week of generalized ethnic violence. What was strange in this situation was the relative inaction and passivity of the ruling UNP government to contain violence and protect Tamil civilians. This created a decisive rupture between the Sri Lankan state and the Tamil community. The Tamils viewed the government’s inaction to protect Tamils from mob violence as the expression of a deliberate policy of suppression designed to place them firmly in a status of second-class citizens. This marked a fresh moment of acute alienation between them and the Sri Lankan state, with the immediate consequence of the anti- state insurgency gaining mass support in the Tamil society. Thus the anti- Tamil violence of July 1983 and the government’s mishandling of it not only gave a fillip to the insurgency, but also legitimized the project of secession, replacing the parliamentary leadership of Tamil nationalist movement with a new generation of militants committed to a protracted armed struggle. The resultant escalation of the conflict turned itself into a civil war between the Sri Lankan state and a host of Tamil guerilla groups. The emergence of the LTTE as a major Tamil guerilla organization occurred in the subsequent years amidst the escalating civil war.

Causes of the insurgency The root causes of the Tamil ethnic insurgency can be seen in three spheres: socioeconomic dimensions, intensification of identity politics and the state reform failure. In the trajectory of the ethnic conflict, these causes were interspersed with two major dimensions of Sri Lanka’s post- independence politics, both of which were linked to the question of the state: (1) the majoritarian communalization of the state, and (2) the consolidation of the unitary and centralized state with no structural reforms to address Tamil political demands for regional autonomy. Economic causes that led to the Tamil project of autonomy and secession are not easy to discern, primarily because of the fact that economic underdevelopment and social backwardness has been a generalized feature of the entire Sri 106 J. Uyangoda Lankan society. In fact, the socioeconomic underdevelopment that the predominantly Tamil provinces of the island were subjected to throughout the post- independence decades was not unique to the Northern and Eastern provinces. The kind of colonial, underdeveloped capitalism that Sri Lanka’s political class maintained since independence had kept most of the Sinhalese- majority provinces too in acute underdevelopment. The presence of economic factors as causes of the Tamil ethnic insurgency is perhaps much more complex than the straightforward cause and effect account could provide. Meanwhile, economic backwardness of the North has not been a part of the narrative of discrimination which the Tamil nationalists highlighted before or during the civil war. Their focus was on cultural and political discrimination, of which issues of language rights, political equality, and regional autonomy had the major share. However, in constructing a socioeconomic explanation of the Tamil insurgency, one can argue that it was a product of socio-economic underdevelopment in the same way that the two Sinhalese youth insurgencies of 1971 and 1987–89 were products of similar conditions of underdevelopment. Cultural discrimination relating to language rights was a much more fertile ground for the alienation of Tamil society from the Sri Lankan state. The making of Sinhalese, the language of the ethnic majority, the official language in 1956 and the bringing of Sinhalese- Buddhist ideology and cultural symbols to the domain of the state, obviously led to a situation where the Tamil, or even Muslim and other minority citizens, could not identify themselves with their state. Cultural alienation was a pronounced grievance which repeatedly found expression in the Tamil nationalist discourse of collective victimology. The intensification of ethnic identity politics, as we have already noted above, led to the exclusion of Tamil political elites from the sphere of political power. Though elected to parliament, the Tamil elites often found themselves in the opposition, thereby being unable to share political power or even without opportunities to influence government policy. Even when the Federal Party, the leading Tamil party, joined with the UNP in 1965 to form a coalition regime, during its three years in government, it could not get a law for decentralization accepted by the government. The Federal Party’s attempt to influence the constitutional reform process of 1970–72 by being in opposition yet extending cooperation to the United Front government to change the constitution bore no results whatsoever. The way in which the cabinet and parliamentary government functioned in Sri Lanka since independence has been such that the Sinhalese political elites, whether in the UNP or the SLFP, could totally ignore the Tamils as a constituency worthy of recognition. This is the kind of politics of exclusion that the Sinhalese elite practices vis à vis its Tamil counterparts. It eventually convinced the youth constituencies in Tamil society in the 1970s that secession was an option worth trying out, because Sri Lanka’s majoritarian political order was not flexible enough for minority inclusion. Third, the recurrent history of state reform failure since the mid- 1950s eventually contributed to the reformist Tamil political elites becoming themselves rather radical in the mid- 1970s. The postcolonial Tamil nationalist project, as The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 107 evolved since the early 1950s, had its initial focus on reforming the Sri Lankan state alone federalist lines. On two occasions, in 1957 and 1967, governments agreed with the Federal Party leadership to introduce a limited measure of regional autonomy to the North and East, but those agreements – the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam pact of 1957 and the Senanayaka- Chelvanayakam Pact of 1967 – were unilaterally terminated by the Prime Ministers who signed them in the face of Sinhalese nationalist opposition. The third attempt made by the Tamil leadership to negotiate regional autonomy was in 1970–71, when they proposed to the Constituent Assembly to adopt the federal principle. The United Front government dismissed the federal proposal with some measure of contempt and even went to the extent of having a clause in the new Republican constitution characterizing Sri Lanka as a unitary state. During the constitutional change in 1978 by the UNP government, the idea of regional autonomy for the Tamils was not even considered. The new constitution of 1978, too, reaffirmed the unitary character of the Sri Lankan state. The consistent refusal by the Sin- halese political class to reform the Sri Lankan state even to grant the Tamils a limited measure of autonomy, at least in the form of decentralization, eventually led to a situation where political options for the Tamils within the unitary state became rather non- existent. Thus, the Tamil project shifted in the mid- and late 1970s away from state reform to separation (Wilson, 1988, 2000; Loganathan, 1996). The Tamil separatist project, first advanced in 1976, was initially a nonviolent movement of popular mobilization. The TULF utilized the parliamentary elections of 1977 to seek what it called a ‘mandate’ from the Tamil people of the North and East for the setting up of a separate state. The TULF received an overwhelming backing of the Tamil electorate winning 19 out of 21 seats of the North and East. It appeared that the TULF expected the UNP government to respond to this ‘mandate’ and negotiate a federalist solution. However, the UNP, with a five- sixth majority of seats in parliament, totally ignored the TULF ’s claim and deployed the armed forces to put down the incipient unrest among the Tamil youth in the North. The way in which the UNP government handled the challenge arising from the heightened Tamil nationalist agitation during 1978–1983 directly contributed to the legitimization of the Tamil armed struggle launched by radical groups. The government refused to acknowledge that an ethnic ‘conflict’ was in the making and that the Tamil project had come to the end of its parliamentary, peaceful road. The government’s proposal for a system of decentralization, introduced in 1980 after much reluctance and haggling, and the setting up of District Development Councils the same year as a minimalist program of decentralization, proved itself to be totally inadequate to stem the rising trend of radicalism in Tamil nationalist politics. The anti- Tamil riots that occurred in the summer of 1983 only hastened the escalation of Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict, giving a new legitimacy to the insurgency for secession. Thus the proximate causes of the Tamil secessionist insurgency were primarily political, and they were closely related to the question of state power. At 108 J. Uyangoda the same time, as Shastri (1990) has shown, the economic dimensions are important to explain why the secessionist insurgency was seen in Tamil society as a viable option in the late 1970s and why it attracted support from the traditional as well as new elites of the Tamil society. Shastri’s argument is that although the North and East remained economically ‘backward,’ the changes in the peasant economy in the 1970s, with the spread of capital intensive agriculture and strict import controls on food items, combined with migration of Tamil professionals to other districts, led to the emergence of economically ‘forward’ groups who encountered unalterable barriers to their advancement. Shastri concludes that this change ‘demonstrated potential for a “backward” region to become a “forward” one if freed from unfavorable asymmetries in the instituted structure of power’ and ‘formed a critical element in the process of positive counter- identity formation in the secessionist movement’ (Shastri, 1990: 75).

Attempts at resolution of the conflict through negotiation Sri Lanka’s civil war has gone through a process of protraction interspersed with several failed attempts at its resolution. Failed peace negotiations and re- escalation of war and violence constituted a cycle of war and peace that characterized the dynamics of the conflict reproduction for over twenty- five years (Loganathan, 1996; Sahadevan, 2006; Rupesinghe, 2006; Uyangoda, 2007).

Thimpu talks in August 1985 The first attempt at a negotiated settlement was made in 1985, with the active participation of the Indian government as the mediator. The Indian involvement in the Sri Lankan conflict in the 1980s was a major factor that shaped the trajectory of the conflict during that decade. After the 1983 riots, the Indian policy became openly sympathetic to Sri Lankan Tamil grievances, Tamils being viewed in India as victims of an ethnic majoritarian regime which was committed to an agenda of imposing a military solution to the ethnic conflict. This was the first phase of ‘internationalization’ of Sri Lanka’s civil war, which the Tamil militant groups used to address the initial asymmetrical power relations in the civil war. However, the increasing internationalization as well as escalation of the Sri Lankan conflict in the form of civil war seems to have compelled the Indian government to formulate a policy of diplomatic engagement with the Sri Lankan government as well as the Tamil militant groups, in order to push for a negotiated political settlement. Talks held in Thimpu, the capital of Bhutan, in August 1985 was the first such attempt, which also marked the culmination of a series of consultations which Indian officials carried out for nearly two years with the parties to the conflict in Sri Lanka. Indian officials mediated the talks, which produced no outcome. The Sri Lankan government as well as the Tamil militants used the talks for strategic gains. The Tamil side outlined a framework of compromise which included four principles, which later came to be known as the The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 109 ‘Thimpu Principles.’ They enunciated the doctrine that Sri Lankan Tamils constituted a ‘distinct nationality’ entitled to the ‘inalienable right to self- determination.’ They also asserted territorial autonomy for the ‘Tamil homeland’ encompassing the Northern and Eastern Provinces (Loganathan, 1996: 104–105). The Sri Lankan government rejected these claims and the talks ended with no compromise. However, the Thimpu talks firmly established India as the pre- eminent external actor in the Sri Lankan conflict, capable of defining its future trajectories. In the aftermath of the Thimpu failure, India took steps to continue its diplomatic engagement with the Sri Lankan government and the Tamil militant groups, seeking a political solution based on devolution of power. It appeared that the lesson which India learned in Thimpu was to propose a framework of a political solution, instead of letting the two sides come out with their own unilateral and uncompromising solutions. India’s active political engagement in Sri Lanka, under Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, was also a strategic decision to contain the civil war in the face of its intensification and escalation following the failed Thimpu Talks. The Sri Lankan government’s new military offensive in 1987, aimed at capturing the Jaffna Peninsula where the Tamil insurgency was concentrated, prompted the Indian government to make a decisive intervention in the Sri Lankan conflict. The Indian intention was to prevent a unilateral military solution being imposed by the Sri Lankan government on Tamils (Dixit, 1998). That intervention had two stages. In the first, the Indian government forced the Sri Lankan government to suspend its military offensive in Jaffna, through a symbolic military act of Indian airforce planes dropping food parcels into civilian areas in Jaffna. In the second stage within a few weeks after the halt to the military offensive, the Indian government persuaded the Sri Lankan government and Tamil militant groups to accept a new political solution proposed by the Indian government itself.

Indian Peace Initiative, 1987–89 The intergovernmental Accord signed by the Indian Prime Minister and the Sri Lankan President on July 27, 1987 marked the beginning of a new peace initiative in Sri Lanka. The Indian government signed the peace treaty with the Sri Lankan government and thereby assigned to itself the role of representing the Tamil side to the conflict. The Indo- Lanka Accord of July 1987 envisaged the immediate cessation of the armed conflict and constitutionalization of a political framework of devolution. The Indian government undertook the task of being the guarantor to the implementation of the treaty.2 Under the Indo- Lanka Accord, the cessation of war was to be accompanied by (1) the Sri Lankan government setting up a system of Provincial Councils as the structural framework for devolution and (2) the Tamil militant groups surrendering their weapons to the Indian peacekeeping force on the basis of accept- ing the political solution offered in the Accord. Once disarmed, the Tamil militant groups were expected to join the ‘political mainstream’ and eventually 110 J. Uyangoda contest the Provincial Council elections so that they could become provincial rulers in a structure of regional autonomy. Within a month of the Accord, the Sri Lankan government amended the country’s Constitution to set up provincial councils. In Sri Lanka’s contemporary political lore, this particular constitutional revision is called the ‘Thirteenth Amendment.’ However, the disarming of Tamil militant groups ran into complexities when the LTTE, the dominant Tamil guerilla group at the time, did not go beyond the symbolic surrender of a few weapons to Indian peace-keepers. It appeared that the LTTE was in favor of neither the political outcome of the Indo- Lanka Accord, which was devolution of power, nor disarming itself. In the face of the LTTE’s refusal to disarm itself, the Indian government decided to deploy its army in Sri Lanka to force the LTTE to surrender its weapons. This soon led to a war between the Indian peace-keeping forces and the LTTE. Begun in Septem- ber/October 1987, this new phase of the war involving the Indian army and the LTTE continued till March 1990, when the Sri Lankan government forced the Indian government to withdraw all its troops from Sri Lanka. The Indian state’s failure in its mediation and intervention in Sri Lanka in 1987–89 highlighted the limits of an external role in forcing parties to accept civil war termination in an inter- state conflict. India’s power mediation, using its diplomatic, political, and military strength as the regional super- power in South Asia, initially appeared to work since the Sri Lankan government and the Tamil groups went along with the road map to peace proposed by India. However, the Indian role generated two unanticipated responses. The first was the LTTE’s refusal to disarm itself, a point which has already been mentioned. The LTTE’s argument was two-fold. First, the LTTE was not a party to negotiations, nor was it a signatory to the peace agreement. The LTTE viewed the Indo-Lanka Accord as a peace treaty that served the strategic interests of the Indian state, not the political aspirations of Sri Lankan Tamils. Second, the LTTE viewed ‘devolution’ as proposed in the Accord as an inadequate and unacceptable alternative to the goal of a separate state (Balasingham, 2004). Meanwhile, in Sri Lanka’s Sin- halese society, the Indian intervention was seen with suspicion and hostility. Many Sinhalese nationalist groups viewed the Indian role in 1987 as an attempt to bring Sri Lanka directly under Indian hegemony, and even eventual territorial annexation of the island to the larger state of India. The Sinhalese nationalist mobilization and resistance against the Indian intervention began on the very day when the Accord was signed. The anti-government riots which flared up on that day marked the beginning of an anti-state rebellion in Sinhalese society. Led by the radical nationalist political movement called Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP, People’s Liberation Front), the new insurgency added a complex dimension to Sri Lanka’s continuing instability and political crisis. This insurgency ended in November 1989 when the state emerged victorious in a ruthless counterinsurgency war. The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 111 Informal peace talks 1989–90 Meanwhile, a third attempt at peace talks was made by the LTTE and the Sri Lankan government in 1989. The initiative for this round of peace talks was taken by President Ranasinghe Premadasa of the UNP, who won the Presidential election held on December 18, 1988 amidst violence and terror. Premadasa as the new President inherited the legacy of two civil wars, one in the Northern and Eastern provinces and the other in the rest of the country. The presence of the Indian army in large numbers in the island had added to public resentment against the regime. As a step towards managing this acute political crisis, Prema- dasa in April 1989 invited both the JVP and the LTTE to peace talks with his government. While the JVP rejected the offer for talks, the LTTE responded positively, as it soon became clear, for tactical reasons. The LTTE, cornered by a massive Indian army with greater firepower and capacity, found a strategic opening in President Premadasa’s invitation for peace talks. Thus began a new round of talks between the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE while the Indian offensive against the LTTE continued. Getting rid of the Indian peacekeeping troops was a shared tactical objective for both sides. President Prema- dasa, resorting to somewhat unconventional diplomacy, forced the Indian government to withdraw all its troops from Sri Lanka in March 1990. The peace talks between the Premadasa government and the LTTE were held in Colombo in 1989 and early 1990. They were informal talks in the sense that there were no official statements or even reporting of the agenda, content, or progress of talks. There was no clear outcome of the talks either, except the withdrawal of the Indian army from the island. Once that shared goal was achieved, both the government and the LTTE seemed to have lost interest in furthering peace talks. Once the unofficial truce between the two sides ended, they returned to war with greater intensity, seeking unilateral military advantage. Amidst escalating violence that once again spread to the Colombo city, both Sri Lanka’s defence minister and subsequently President Premadasa himself were assassinated by suicide bombers in Colombo streets.

Peace talks in 1994–95 Sri Lanka’s cycle of peace talks appears to have been often instigated by a sense of war weariness which both the government and the LTTE had experienced after intense phases of war and violence. Such was the context for the launching of the fourth attempt at a negotiated settlement to the conflict made in 1994–95. A regime change also provided conditions for a change of strategy by the government. At the parliamentary elections held in August 1994, the UNP lost power and a new center- left coalition called People’s Alliance (PA) won the parliamentary election. The PA led its election campaign on a platform of democracy and peace. The new government was a multiethnic coalition. It initiated a process of dialogue with the LTTE in September 1994. The dialogue eventually led to a cessation of hostilities agreement in January 1995 and direct peace talks. 112 J. Uyangoda Three rounds of official talks were held in Jaffna, the main city of the Northern province which the LTTE had used as its military and political headquarters. Other than the ceasefire agreement (CFA), the two sides could not proceed towards a peace agreement. In the course of negotiations, deep differences between the PA government and the LTTE surfaced. These differences were based on two competing approaches which the government and the LTTE had adopted towards the process of negotiations, its time-frame and the political outcome. The PA government’s approach was to bring to the agenda of negotiations what was described as ‘core issues’ of the conflict – root causes that led to the ethnic conflict – and reach a final peace agreement within a limited time- frame. Contrasting with this single- stage approach to negotiated peace was the LTTE’s strategy of multi- stage negotiations. In this approach, the two sides should first address what the LTTE described as the ‘consequences of the war,’ and not the root causes of the conflict. Addressing consequences of the war included resettlement, rehabilitation, infrastructure development, normalization of civilian life, and gradual withdrawal of state military camps from the North- ern province. The LTTE insisted that the core issues could be discussed only after the normalization of life in the war-torn areas, which notably included demilitarization, meaning a substantial reduction of the presence of the military in the province. The PA government viewed this approach by the LTTE with suspicion, on the premise that its avoidance of discussing core issues and the insistence on demilitarization was part of a hidden agenda of retuning to war after making use of the cessation of hostilities agreement for its partisan, military advantage. The LTTE in turn saw a hidden agenda of war in the government approach as well. When the mistrust between the two sides deepened, negotiations could not produce any positive outcome. In an atmosphere of tension and uncertainty, the LTTE brought the cessation of hostilities agreement to an end on April 19, 1995 returning to hostilities. That effectively ended the fourth attempt at negotiated peace between the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE. In December 1995–January 1996, the military balance between the Sri Lankan state and the LTTE shifted decisively in favor of the state when the government armed forces captured the Jaffna peninsula, which was under the LTTE’s military and administrative control. In the face of a massive military offensive launched by the government, the LTTE retreated en masse to the jungles south of the Jaffna peninsula, forcing thousands of Tamil civilians to join them. In the LTTE’s nationalist lore, this was a mass exodus of biblical proportions. The government anticipated a militarily weakened LTTE to return to negotiations. However, the LTTE’s response was to prepare itself for a protracted war, using the jungles in the Vanni district as its base. After two-to-three years of preparation, the LTTE began to launch major military offensives in 1999–2001, altering the military balance of power on the ground by overrunning some key military camps of the government, located in the Northern province. The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 113 Norwegian attempts at a negotiated settlement: 2002 and after There were unsuccessful attempts at restarting pace talks in 2000–01, with the assistance of the Norwegian government. In 2000, the Norwegian government offered its good offices to explore the possibility of resuming the peace process. The Norwegians proposed to the two sides to sign a memorandum of understanding (MoU) on humanitarian issues, since the human cost of the intense war had remained extremely high. During further consultations on the proposed humanitarian MoU, sharp differences between the two sides resurfaced. While the LTTE wanted de- escalation of war as a precondition to the MoU, the PA government objected. Amidst these differences, the first Norwegian initiative to resume peace talks failed in 2000. A second Norwegian effort to bring the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE back to the negotiation table made in late 2001 worked well, under changed political circumstances. At the parliamentary elections held in December 2001, the opposition UNP came back to power leading a new coalition called United National Front (UNF ) and promising negotiated peace. The government had also been facing a severe economic crisis; and the government and the LTTE had been locked in a military stalemate in which neither side could move forward. Meanwhile, the intensity of the war during this period had been such that the material and human cost of the war had reached a level unacceptable to both sides. It is in this context that the new UNF government and the LTTE had invited the Norwegian government to assist them to return to the negotiation table. The Norwegian initiative succeeded in bringing the UNF government and the LTTE to a ceasefire. The ceasefire agreement was signed on February 21, 2002. The progress of the ceasefire was to be monitored by an international monitoring team, called the Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission (SLMM). Members of the SLMM were from Scandinavian countries. The ceasefire agreement was meant to provide conditions propitious to begin direct peace talks. The Norwegian government played the role of mediator in preparing and conducting peace negotiations. Talks were held outside Sri Lanka, the first round being held in the city of Sattahip, Thailand. Subsequent sessions were held in Tokyo, Berlin, and Oslo. The last session of talks, held in Oslo in December 2002, appeared to be most promising when the two sides agreed to explore a ‘federal solution’ within the framework of a ‘united Sri Lanka.’ The Oslo compromise was a culmination of a series of joint efforts initiated by the two sides during previous sessions of talks to build peace, promote normalization, and set in motion a process of internationally assisted economic development (Uyangoda and Perera, 2003). However, the optimism of the 2002 peace process began to dissipate in March/April, 2003, when the LTTE suspended its participation in further peace talks on the grounds that the government had not put into practice the promises it had made during previous sessions. One of the most contentious issues raised by the LTTE was the gradual demilitarization of the Jaffna peninsula and return of the land being occupied by the army under high security zones. The LTTE 114 J. Uyangoda argued that the beginning of demilitarization was essential for the normalization of civilian life in the North. When the LTTE saw the government’s slow response to the demilitarization demand, it perhaps made an assessment of the peace process as not serving its own strategic interests. The behavior of the LTTE after the Oslo sessions of peace talks in December 2002 clearly indicated that its leadership had decided to redefine the peace process to suit its strategic goal of state-building through negotiations. This agenda of state- building is a key to understanding the LTTE’s strategies and tactics in this period. By this time, the LTTE had begun to build up structures for a regional state in areas under its military and administrative control (Stokke, 2006). These structures included military, law and order, civilian administration, administration of justice, taxation, education, and culture. The key strategic objective which the LTTE may have wanted to achieve through negotiations in 2002–03 was to obtain some form of formalization of these structures of the state and eventually be able to claim statehood. It was a goal of state- building through a combined strategy of war and negotiation. When the negotiation process failed to serve this goal in early 2003, the LTTE shifted the focus of negotiations to an agenda of an ‘Interim Self- Governing Authority’ (ISGA). The LTTE’s proposals for an ISGA submitted to the government in October 2003 led to the collapse of the peace process begun in early 2002. What the LTTE envisaged as an interim solution through these proposals was a framework for extensive regional autonomy that even went beyond Sri Lanka’s existing constitution. Similarly, this ‘interim solution’ far exceeded the framework of a final solution to which any Sri Lankan government could conceivably agree. Even the great humanitarian emergency caused by the Asian Tsunami of Decem- ber 2004 could not bring the government and the LTTE back to the negotiation table (Uyangoda, 2007). The year 2006 saw the beginning of a rapid return to war under new political circumstances. In January 2006, the newly elected President of Sri Lanka, Mahinda Rajapaksa, invited the LTTE to resume the peace process, in response to sustained international pressure. Two sessions of talks were held in Geneva, Switzerland in January and March 2006, but they were rancorous meetings between two adversaries committed to war, rather than serious attempts at negotiating peace. Amidst serious and willful violations of the ceasefire agreement, conditions became ripe for relapsing to full-scale war, which the two sides did in the months following the unsuccessful Geneva talks. The war that slowly began in 2006 became intensified leading to its final phase in 2009. The logic of returning to war by the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE in 2006–07 and their approach to this phase of the war as the final battle in the long- drawn out civil war is an issue that requires some reflection. By choosing war over negotiated peace, or even negotiated stalemate, the two sides took enormous risks. The new phase of war could have ended either with the defeat of the LTTE or with an unending war leading to an extremely costly new stalemate the outcome of which could have been uncertain. This defied the logic of the conventional theory of mutually hurting stalemate, and even the common The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 115 sense of avoiding a risk of which the outcome was precariously uncertain and totally unpredictable. It was a move that brought new and profoundly unmanage- able security and political dilemmas to both sides. The two sides also defied repeated international pressure on them not to relapse to full- scale war. What is the logic that drove the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE to this phase of war which turned to be the ‘final war’ in Sri Lanka’s protracted ethnic conflict? There is no easy answer to this question and one can only think of an inter- pretative answer based on circumstantial evidence. From the point of view of the government, an argument had been developed within the new regime that the LTTE could be defeated if the war was allowed to be carried out by the military leadership, without political interference by the political leadership, and without any consideration for international pressure on issues of human rights and humanitarian consequences. The government seems to have also thought that an international military safety- net, involving the USA, UK, India, China, Pakistan, Russia and even the UN, would secure the necessary strategic edge over the LTTE which the previous governments failed to, or did not, work out. Under President Mahinda Rajapaksa, a clear division of labor between the civilian and military leadership seems to have been established, in order to execute the final war against the LTTE. While the military establishment was given a freehand in planning, strategizing, and executing the war, the political leadership managed its political front domestically, regionally, and internationally. What would have motivated the LTTE to take the huge risk of returning to war after 2006? Here, too, the explanation cannot be but speculative and inter- pretative. The LTTE’s argument for returning to war can be seen as grounded on the realization that the 2002–03 peace process did not serve its strategic objective of formalizing an interim administration in the Northern and Eastern provinces. The goal which the LTTE seems to have wanted to achieve through the internationally mediated peace process of 2002–03 was obviously not the minimalist political solution of enhanced devolution or federalism, but setting up of a regional state under a confederal set up. The proposals for an interim self- governing authority which the LTTE presented to the Sri Lankan government in October 2003 very clearly indicated the parameters within which it conceived a negotiated settlement. That entailed confederal regional autonomy, a project which neither the Sri Lankan government nor the international actors would accept, even as a final settlement. From the LTTE’s point of view, once the path of political engagement came to end, the only other option available was returning to war with the objective that the war would produce new conditions to pursue the goal of confederal regional autonomy, eventually leading to separation, with international sponsorship, as envisaged in the peace agreement of Sudan. Although events proved the LTTE’s strategic calculations both naïve and wrong, the LTTE tried to re- internationalize the Sri Lankan conflict by means of a massive humanitarian crisis, counting on international intervention leading to eventual territorial division of the state of Sri Lanka. 116 J. Uyangoda LTTE’s nature and specificities The LTTE began its career as a small guerilla organization, active primarily in the Jaffna Peninsula. In terms of its social bases, many commentators have described the LTTE’s core membership and leadership belonging to the karaiar (fisherman) caste community, an intermediate caste in Sri Lanka’s Tamil society. This is probably a simplification of the social bases of the LTTE. It ismore correct to say that the LTTE’s leadership as well as cadres came from the intermediate as well as marginal caste and class groups of the Tamil society. This was the case with other Tamil militant groups as well, for example, the EPRLF, PLOTE, and TELO. Meanwhile, the traditional Tamil leadership came from the professional strata of the socially and culturally dominant vellala (cultivator) caste community. The initial membership of the LTTE as well as other Tamil militant groups was recruited from among the educated youth in Tamil society, in a context of youth radicalization in the 1970s in both Sinhalese and Tamil societies. Youth radicalization in Sinhalese and Tamil society seems to have taken place on broadly similar trajectories. In both social formations, the welfare state provided initial opportunities for the young men and women of subordinate social classes to achieve secondary education. Along with the spread of education were aspirations for upward social mobility and socioeconomic emancipation. In Sinhalese society, the structural limits of the state-controlled economy could not provide opportunities for employment, economic activity, and social integration. In Tamil society, the case was slightly different. There, as a result of the standardization policy in university admissions introduced by the Sinhalese nationalist United Front government of 1970, opportunities for state- led higher education for the youth of the subordinate social classes in Tamil society were severely blocked. Thus, in Sinhalese society, youth radicalization came to the fore in the late 1960s and early 1970s as a consequence of the unavailability of opportunities for upward social mobility and social emancipation. In Tamil society, it was a case of opportunities for upward mobility being deliberately blocked by the state. This partly explains why youth radicalization in both social formations has led to the expression of immense social and political anger and violence directed against the state. A sociologically equally significant aspect was the fact that with the emergence of the LTTE as the dominant group in the Tamil militant movement, the leadership of Tamil nationalism shifted away from the traditional upper-class and upper- caste professional elite, mostly English educated lawyers with great oratorical skills in the court- room as well as parliamentary assembly, to a young generation of leaders who emerged from vernacular subordinate classes and castes in Tamil society. The latter learned and practiced the art of shooting, killing, suicide bombing, violence, terror, guerilla, as well as conventional warfare, to deadly effect, transforming Tamil nationalist politics from the arena of debate and disagreement to a new domain of protracted warfare. This indeed changed the Sinhalese stereotypical image of Tamils as timid, obedient, law- abiding and subservient community of people. It also transformed the image of The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 117 the Tamils into the new status of ‘demonic other’ and even the ‘absolute enemy’ of the Sri Lankan state. The LTTE was the most nationalistic and uncompromising of all the Tamil militant groups in Sri Lanka. The EPRLF and PLOTE, two of the most active militant groups until the LTTE systematically destroyed them in the 1980s, were ideologically Left-oriented and even advocated a joint struggle with the progressive forces of Sinhalese society to bring in also the common, trans-ethnic issues into the focus of their struggle. The LTTE rejected class or inter- ethnic solidarity in its struggle. It focused entirely on the political independence of the Tamil ‘nation.’ When the LTTE realized that the Muslims were not cooperating with their struggle, the entire Muslim community living in Jaffna and Mannar was forcibly evicted, in a move that has been described as ‘ethnic cleansing.’ In the Eastern province too, the LTTE treated the Muslim community with hostility which several times led to civilian massacres. Thus the LTTE’s extreme ethnonationalism led to the Tamil nationalist project being alienated and isolated from Sri Lanka’s Sinhalese and Muslim communities. The LTTE’s uncompromising commitment to the goal of a separate state became evident first in 1987–88, when it rejected the LankaIndo- Accord of 1987. The Accord, signed by the Indian and Sri Lankan governments, sought to establish a system of devolution as the framework of a political solution to the ethnic conflict. While all the other Tamil groups and parties accepted the Accord and returned to parliamentary politics, the LTTE rejected the Accord as well as the devolution framework. Two arguments for the LTTE to justify its position were that the solution of 1987 was externally imposed on the Tamils and that the proposed provincial councils were not adequate as an alternative to its goal of a separate state. The LTTE’s rejection of the devolution package of 1995, offered by the People’s Alliance government, was also based on the argument that it fell short of ‘a solution acceptable to the Tamil people.’ When the LTTE was compelled to spell out a framework of solution in 2003, it produced a framework for an interim administration, which, as we have already noted, went beyond Sri Lanka’s existing constitution and approximated to a confederal arrangement. While all other Tamil militant groups and parties accepted devolution, which fell far short of a federal framework, as an adequate model of regional autonomy, the LTTE’s starting point for negotiations, as it became clear in 2003, was an extreme form of federalism, to which no government in Sri Lanka could easily respond. Unwavering commitment to the armed struggle as the only path to ‘national liberation’ was a hallmark of the LTTE’s politics. In this sense, the LTTE remained an unreformable product of a third-world, national liberation paradigm of the 1960s and 1970s, unable to see the centrality of politics over arms. It ultimately cost the LTTE and the Tamil community dearly. Whenever the option for a negotiated peace became feasible, the LTTE rejected all such opportunities, preferring the final goal of ‘independence’ to compromise. The LTTE seems to have worked out its strategic time- line in such a way that a long drawn- out and protracted war spread over several decades was the only worthwhile option to 118 J. Uyangoda pursue, until the victory of the armed struggle was a reality. This uncompromising commitment to the maximalist goal, which had no room for pragmatism or critical review under changed circumstances, to some extent explains the LTTE’s defining uniqueness, its recurrent behavior of intransigence and inflexibility, and ultimately its death and defeat in the battlefront. The LTTE’s near monopolization of Tamil nationalist politics was also an outcome of a totalitarian conceptualization of ‘national unity’ in the course of the armed struggle. The LTTE in fact produced a form of monistic nationalism, fostered by extreme militarism. The LTTE appears to have believed that if the Tamil nation were to achieve its goal of ‘national independence,’ there should be only one representative fighting, talking, and negotiating, and that ‘sole representative’ should be none other than the LTTE itself. This notion of ‘sole representative of the Tamil nation’ provided the LTTE justification of its policy of annihilating rival Tamil groups engaged with the Sri Lankan state through other, political and parliamentary, strategies and tactics which the LTTE did not consider as serving the interests of the Tamils. That eventually created a sharp and unbridgeable fracture within Tamil politics, the LTTE being the defining line of demarcation: one has to be either with the LTTE or against the LTTE. This division distorted the politics of Tamil resistance to such an extent that many Tamil political groups regarded the LTTE as the main obstacle to winning peace and the political rights of the Tamil people. In order to remove that obstacle, they even worked in collaboration with the Sri Lankan state in its counterinsurgency war. The split that occurred within the LTTE in 2004, which decisively weakened the LTTE’s military capacity to continue to fight the war with the Sri Lankan state, amply illustrates this point. For many years, during its formative as well as consolidation phases, the LTTE’s strength was its monolithic unity, which was maintained by means of iron- fist discipline. Eventually, this became the source of its weakness as well, particularly under the conditions of relative peace and no- war, after the CFA and negotiations in 2002–03. Karuna Amman, or Vinay- agamurthy Mudalidharan, the LTTE’s military commander in the Eastern province, left the movement in March 2004 and joined the ranks of the government. A few thousands of his followers, most of them trained combatants, were also reported to have left the LTTE. This severely weakened the LTTE’s military resources. The fact that Karuna and his cadres joined the Sri Lankan army as an auxiliary force significantly strengthened the government’s offensive capacity in its new phase of the war with the LTTE which began in 2006. Thus the government could wrest control of the Eastern province from the LTTE in 2008 with relative ease and then extend its winning strategy to the North as well, leading to the eventual decimation of the LTTE in May 2009. Kauna’s defection thus altered the military balance significantly in favor of the Sri Lankan state. There are two theories to explain Karuna’s defection from the LTTE. The first says that the LTTE leadership began to initiate a disciplinary inquiry against Karuna on allegations of financial misappropriation and Karuna defied the orders from his leader to subject himself to organizational discipline and accountability. The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 119 This eventually led to differences between Karuna and his leaders which military intelligence exploited in no time. The other theory makes the claim that Karu- na’s ‘rebellion’ against the mainstream LTTE leadership was an open manifestation of a long- standing contradiction between the Northern and Eastern segments of the LTTE. According to this theory, the Eastern province-based LTTE cadres had always resented the exploitative hegemony of the Northern province- based leadership and Karuna’s ‘rebellion’ was the culmination of an unresolved dispute that had regionalist origins. Both these theories are probably valid. What an analyst can add to these explanations is the point that the conditions of relative peace under a relatively long period of ceasefire and negotiations had facilitated the some of the major internal contradictions of the LTTE which had remained suppressed during the war. The other distinctive feature of the LTTE, which came to prominence, particularly during the last ten years of its existence, is thinking and acting like a state (Uyangoda, 2006). Although the Sri Lankan government viewed it as a ‘terrorist’ outfit, the LTTE’s self-understanding was that it was the embodiment of the incipient state of the Tamils. As it became very clear after 2002, in negotiations with the Sri Lankan government and in engaging with the international actors, the LTTE sought acknowledgement and even confirmation of this state- like status. This is a key issue that in fact prevented any possibility of compromise in 2002 and after. It made the negotiation positions of both the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE rigid, inflexible, and intransigent, ultimately leading to relapsing to war after 2006. In a retrospective analysis, one can even argue that by thinking and acting like a state, and therefore being intransigently maximalist and uncompromising in dealing with the Sri Lankan state and as well as the international actors involved in the Sri Lankan conflict and peace processes, the LTTE only hastened its own demise.

Present dynamics of the conflict The military defeat of the LTTE in May 2009 marked the end of the civil war, but not the conflict. A number of humanitarian and political issues emerged immediately after the end of the war. The welfare of a large number of Tamil civilians who surrendered to the armed forces, their security, safety, and well- being, and their resettlement were immediate humanitarian issues of great proportions. It required massive amounts of resources and the Sri Lankan government needed immediate international humanitarian assistance for these tasks. The government’s militaristic approach to post-civil war humanitarian issues created some tension between the government and international humanitarian agencies. The government’s policy was not to give a free hand, or a leadership role, to international actors in what was understood as the ‘post- conflict’ phase. The government’s security-centric approach to the humanitarian aftermath of the war was largely shaped by the perception that most external actors, both state and non-governmental and particularly those of the West, had been supportive of the LTTE. 120 J. Uyangoda Two other issues of contention continue to characterize Sri Lanka’s political process after the defeat of the LTTE. The first regards a political solution to the ethnic conflict and the second accountability with regard to allegations of human rights violations during the past phase of the war. On the question of the political solution to the ethnic conflict, the government has been moving slowly while the external actors, notably India, the EU and the USA, have been keen that the government implemented a framework of regional autonomy as the basis of sustainable peace-building. The government’s reluctance to work towards a political solution to the ethnic conflict has both ideological and political reasons. Ideologically, the dominant thinking of the present Sri Lankan government is to treat the Tamil ethnic insurgency as exclusively an issue of terrorism. According to this analysis, terrorism required a military solution and it does not warrant a political solution as such. Politically, the difficulty for the government is to accommodate the political demands of the defeated enemy. A unilateral military solution to an ethnic conflict, as Sri Lanka’s case demonstrates, does not provide political incentives to the victorious regime to reform the state in order to address minority grievances. The government’s priority is on rebuilding the Sri Lankan state as a militarily strong entity that can effectively prevent any future ethnic insurgencies by military means. Why are the external actors so keen on a political solution to the Tamil grievances? A plausible answer to this question has to be set against the reasons why the external actors supported the UPFA government’s policy of defeating the LTTE militarily. After the LTTE’s intransigent refusal to negotiate a peace deal with the UNP government in 2002–03 as an outcome of the internationally sponsored peace process of 2002, these external actors seem to have come to the conclusion that the LTTE was the main obstacle to peace, security, and development in Sri Lanka. On the basis of this analysis, they supported the UPFA government’s military campaign to defeat the LTTE, even disregarding the humanitarian cost of the war which they backed. These external actors, too, held the view that once the main obstacle to peace in Sri Lana, the LTTE, was removed, it would be easier for the government to implement a political solution. Govern- ment leaders also indicated during the war that the defeat of the LTTE and ending the war would create better conditions for the government to implement a political solution to the ethnic conflict. However, the government’s reluctance to move in the direction of a political solution seems to have created a sense of unease in India and the West. Meanwhile, the UPFA government does not seem to have totally rejected the notion that the Tamils and other minorities have grievances that require government’s attention. It indeed admits that there are legitimate grievances for the minorities which are due to uneven regional development and the protracted civil war. These grievances, as the government seems to insist, are not political, but essentially economic and developmental. They require neither political nor constitutional solutions, but economic and developmental solutions. In this perspective, rapid economic and infrastructure development in the Northern and Eastern provinces would be the prelude to reintegration of the two regions with The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 121 the Sri Lankan state. In this particular approach to post- civil war peace-building, economic integration is the essential prelude to post- civil war nation- building and state-building. What would be the strategy of ethnic minority parties in the new political environment created by the end of the civil war? Quite significantly, the military victory of the state over the Tamil ethnic insurgency has altered the balance of power between ethnic minorities and the Sri Lankan state in such a way that the bargaining capacity of the minorities is drastically reduced. Quite aware of this shift of power relations, some minority parties have adjusted their strategies to new conditions and begun to de-emphasize the agenda of political rights of their communities, particularly the goal of regional autonomy. Instead, they now emphasize development, which is the government’s agenda as well. Only the Tamil National Alliance (TNA), which represents the Tamil community in the Northern and Eastern provinces, continues to emphasize enhanced devolution as the key to resolving the ethnic conflict. However, from the government’s perspective, the TNA’s emphasis on a devolution- based political solution is an old agenda, not relevant to post-LTTE political realities. Post- civil war reconciliation is another contentious issue on which the Sri Lankan government and the international actors are in serious disagreement. In this debate, the UN Secretary General and the UN Human Rights Council are also involved. The position shared by the UNSG, the UNHRC, and the Western countries led by the USA is that post- conflict reconciliation should begin with addressing justice issues and establishing accountability over serious human rights violations that may have occurred during the last stages of the war in 2009. In the liberal peace framework, justice is a precondition for reconciliation. The Sri Lankan government thinks otherwise. In its approach, resettlement and rehabilitation of internally displaced Tamil civilians and normalization of their life are the key elements of any reconciliation process in Sri Lanka. On justice and accountability issues, the government’s broad position is that dwelling on the past will not help to heal the wounds. These two perspectives on reconciliation, which have both cultural and political roots, have led to a bitter debate between the Sri Lankan government, the UN Secretary General, the UNHRC, and the Western governments. The latter have begun to suggest international investigations into what has been described as alleged ‘war crimes’ that may have occurred during the war. This bitter controversy also shows that Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict is not over, and that it has taken a new form. Conflict isnow unfolding outside the territorial borders of Sri Lanka, in the international arena. Meanwhile, in the post- LTTE Sri Lankan Tamil polity, the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) has emerged as the main political actor to represent political interests. The TNA is a coalition of a number of Tamil political parties and at its core is the old TULF. The TNA is also the only Tamil political entity that has not been attracted to the offers of material and political benefits by joining the UPFA regime. It won the majority of parliamentary seats, fourteen, of the North and East at the general elections held in April 2010. The TNA won the majority of the local government bodies in the North and many in the East at the local 122 J. Uyangoda elections held in July 2011. Thus the TNA has clearly emerged as the preferred political choice of the Tamils. Its political line since the end of the war in May 2009 has been to negotiate with the UPFA government for a political solution to the ethnic conflict. That solution, as the TNA thinks, should offer Tamils more regional autonomy than that available in the present system of provincial councils. However, the government has been avoiding serious negotiations with the TNA, citing various excuses. In this context of uncertainty over a post- civil war political solution, the TNA has been standing firm in its insistence that the Tamils are no longer interested in secession, and enhanced devolution should be the solution acceptable to the Tamil people. The TNA’s position has been endorsed by India and the West as well. Finally, what are the possible trajectories of Tamil nationalism after the military defeat of the LTTE? Two speculations can be made in this regard. First, indications at present point to a process of repolarization between the Sri Lankan state and the pro-LTTE forces operating outside Sri Lanka, in the diaspora. The UPFA government’s unwillingness to enter into an agreement with the TNA for a political solution has further compounded the issue. The Sri Lankan government’s policy of viewing the LTTE insurgency merely as a terrorist enterprise is not likely to enable the government to think of new and innovative ways of post- civil war national reconciliation, pluralistic nation- building, and democratic state- building. This can provide fertile grounds for militant Tamil nationalism to reemerge highlighting the potential of Tamil nationalism to survive the military defeat of 2009. Second, the absence of a credible political response to Tamil political demands by the UPFA government consequent to the ending of the war has led a new situation where the ethnic conflict is being reproduced in a new form. The conflict has effectively shifted outside the North and East of Sri Lanka and relocated itself in a global political space. While the LTTE has a strong symbolic presence in the new phase of the conflict, it has a host of international actors as stakeholders. The conflict unfolds by means other than military, and the spectacle of the conflict is enacted in international fora. In this new phase, Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict is also being repoliticized and reinternationalized.

Notes 1 There is a fairly rich body of literature on the early phase of Tamil nationalism and its engagement with the Sri Lankan state and Sinhalese nationalism. For example, see: Wriggins, 1960; Kearny, 1967; Wilson, 1988; de Silva, 1998. 2 Among the key literature on the Indo- Lanka Accord of July 1987 and its political consequences are: Kodikara, 1989; Muni, 1993; Dixit,1998.

References Balasingham, Anton, 2004, War and Peace in Sri Lanka, Armed Struggle and Peace Efforts of Liberation Tigers, Mitcham, England: Fairmax Publishing. De Silva, K. M., 1998, Reaping the Whirlwind: Ethnic Conflict, Ethnic Politics in Sri Lanka, New Delhi: Penguin Books. The LTTE and Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka 123 DeVotta, Neil, 2004, Blowback, Linguistic Nationalism, Institutional Decay and Ethnic Conflict in Sri Lanka, Stanford: Stanford University Press. Dixit, J. N., 1988, Assignment Colombo, Colombo: Vijitha Yapa Bookshop. Kapferer, Bruce, 1988, Legends of People, Myths of State, Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press. Kearney, Robert, 1967, Communalism and Language in the Politics of Ceylon, Durham: Duke University Press. Kodikara, Shelton U., 1989, Indo- Sri Lanka Accord of July 1987, Colombo: University of Colombo. Krishna, Sankaran, 1999, Postcolonial Insecurities: India, Sri Lanka and the Question of Nationhood, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Loganathan, Keteshwaran, 1996, Sri Lanka, Lost Opportunities: Past Attempts at Resolv- ing Ethnic Conflict, Colombo: University of Colombo. Manor, James (ed.), 1984, Sri Lanka: In Change and Crisis, London: Croom Helm. Muni, S. D., 1993, Pangs of Proximity: India and Sri Lanka’s Ethnic Crisis, New Delhi: SAGE. Narayan Swamy, M. R., 1994, Tigers of Sri Lanka: From Boys to Guerillas, Colombo: Vijitha Yapa Bookshop. Roberts, Michael, 1978, ‘Ethnic Conflict in Sri Lanka and Sinhalese Perspectives: Bar- riers to Accommodation,’ Modern Asian Studies, 12:3, pp. 353–376. Rupesinghe, Kumar (ed.), 2006, Negotiating Peace in Sri Lanka: Efforts, Failures and Lessons. Two Volumes, Colombo: Foundation for Co- Existence. Sahadevan, P., 2006, ‘Negotiating Peace in Ethnic Wars,’ International Studies, 43:3, pp. 239–266. Shastri, Amita, 1990, ‘The Material Basis for Separatism: The Tamil Eelam Movement in Sri Lanka,’ Journal of Asian Studies, 49:1 (February), pp. 56–77. Spencer, Jonathan (ed.), 1990, Sri Lanka: History and the Roots of Conflict, London: Routledge. Stokke, Kristian, 2006, ‘Building the Tamil Eelam State: Emerging State Institutions and Forms of Governance in LTTE-Controlled Areas in Sri Lanka,’ Third World Quarterly, 27:6, pp. 1021–1040. Tambiah, S. J., 1986, Sri Lanka: Ethnic Fratricide and Dismantling of Democracy, Delhi: Oxford University Press. Tiruchelvam, Neelan, 2000, ‘Politics of Federalism and Diversity in Sri Lanka,’ in Ghai, Yash (ed.), Autonomy and Ethnicity: Negotiating Competing Claims in Multi- Ethnic Societies, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 197–218. Uyangoda, Jayadeva, 2006, Ethnic Conflict in Sri Lanka: Changing Dynamics, Washing- ton, D.C.: East- West Center. Uyangoda, Jayadeva and Morina Perera (eds), 2003, Sri Lanka’s Peace Process 2002: Critical Perspectives, Colombo: Social Scientists’ Association. Wilson, A. J., 1988, The Break- Up of Sri Lanka: The Sinhalese- Tamil Conflict, Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Wilson, A. J., 2000, Sri Lankan Tamil Nationalism: Its Origins and Development in the 19th and 20th Centuries, London: Penguin. Wriggins, Howard, 1960, Ceylon: Dilemmas of a New Nation, Princeton: Princeton. 7 Renewed ethnonationalist insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan1, 2 The militarized state and continuing economic deprivation

Adeel Khan

Introduction Since December 2005, Pakistan’s army has once again been fighting its own people in the country’s most impoverished, marginalized, and violated province, Balochistan. The military government claimed that the operation was launched against militant nationalists who attacked government personnel, buildings, and installations, but its attacks have been indiscriminate and resulted in loss of life and property of innocent people. Militant nationalists maintain that the operation is the Punjabi- dominated army’s attempt to strengthen its control over Balo- chistan’s natural resources, which are already being exploited by the central government. This conflict is the fifth time the Pakistan army has launched an armed operation in Balochistan during the past six decades. One day after the creation of Pakistan on August 14, 1947, the khan of Kalat (the largest and most prosperous princely state in Balochistan) declared independence, offering Pakistan special relations in the areas of defense, foreign affairs, and communications (Khan 2005: 109–126). Rejecting the offer, Pakistan launched its first military operation in April 1948 to annex Kalat. In 1958 another operation was launched to quell Balochistan’s resentment against the One Unit Scheme.3 In 1962, the Pakistan army attacked Balochistan to fight against left- wing nationalists. The most fierce and brutal army attack started in 1973 and continued until 1977. Some 80,000 Pakistani troops, helped by combat helicopters and the Pakistan Air Force, fought against 55,000 poorly armed Baloch guerrillas (Harrison 1981: 3). The fifth operation started in December 2005 and is still going on. This chapter argues that the violent conflict in Balochistan is unlikely to permanently subside, absent a comprehensive change in the government’s approach and policies toward the province. In particular, the militarized Pakistani central state continues to view Balochistan as a source of natural resources, pursuing a largely military solution to lingering socioeconomic and political problems. The article begins by providing the socioeconomic and political background to the The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 125 conflict. The next section discusses the evolution of demands for regional autonomy for Balochistan. Section three analyzes the emergence of the most recent wave of insurgency, focusing on the Gwador Port issue and the role of Paki- stan’s military. The fourth section contextualizes the re- emergence of the Baloch conflict by focusing on its regional and global dimensions. The article then com- pares and contrasts the new wave of insurgency to previous waves, before discussing possible solutions.

Socioeconomic and political background Balochistan is ethnically and linguistically Pakistan’s most diverse province. The Baloch are the largest ethnic group in the province but do not constitute a majority. Their number is closely followed by Pukhtuns (also known as Push- tuns). The third largest ethnic group is Brahui, followed by a substantial number of Sindhis and Punjabis. Interestingly, the majority of Baloch live outside Balo- chistan, mostly in Sindh and Punjab Provinces. As the driest province of Pakistan, with severe weather and scarcity of fertile land, Balochistan has little irrigation and farming; therefore the social mode of the people has predominantly been nomadic pastoralism. It was only around some patches of settled areas that tribal life was organized. The livelihood of the people has been dependent on myriad economic activities such as growing crops on small pieces of land; tending pasture land; breeding cattle, sheep, and goats; and trade and work in mines. The social organization of the province continues to be based on tribalism (Qasir 1991: 26). Politically, Balochistan has been a fragmented society: the presence of huge deserts, punctuated by settlements, did not facilitate establishment of a centralized authority. Although the sixth khan of Kalat, Nasir Khan, in the eighteenth century did succeed in organizing the major Baloch tribes under a military and administrative system, it did not survive his death (Harrison 1981: 16). Thus power and control continued to be based on the internal organization of local tribes. When the British annexed Balochistan in 1884, their only interest in the region was creating a buffer zone between their Indian colony and the Russian empire, and establishing a safe passage from Sindh to Afghanistan through Balo- chistan. The khan of Kalat guaranteed that safety but could not control the anti- British tribes attacking the British army. The British termed these attacks a breach of treaty, and when the khan refused to surrender, he was killed by the British army and his state dismembered. The British divided Balochistan by handing over the western part to Iran and the northern part to Afghanistan. Part of the region became British Balochistan; the rest was divided into the state of Kalat and three puppet principalities (Harrison 1981: 19). In British Balochistan, indirect rule was imposed in which the political agent of the governor- general was the head of administration. The tribal chiefs were responsible for managing their own affairs, except on issues of strategic importance, for which they were required to consult the political agent. As the British 126 A. Khan interest in the region was of strategic military importance only, little changed in the economic and social structure. By the end of the nineteenth century, however, as roads, railway lines, post offices, rest houses, and a cantonment were built for British troops, the neglected economic sector could not remain unaffected. At the same time, when railway lines boosted coal mining, a market economy appeared that led to migrations from peripheral areas to economically developed ones. The changes that were solely aimed at establishing strategic routes for supplying British troops naturally did not improve the lot of the Baloch people, leading instead to economic deterioration. The astronomical increase in taxation that was collected in kind (wheat) for the British troops led to the landlessness of many peasants.4 This resulted in the emergence of a large number of tenants and landless labourers. To meet the needs of the British garrison, a new mercantile class was imported from Punjab and Sindh. Thus these settlers monopolized whatever modern economic relations developed in Balochistan. This triggered nationalist sentiments among the locals. Before the independence and partition of India, Baloch nationalists demanded their own state, then after the creation of Pakistan, they first refused to be part of the new state. Later, when the Pakistan army forcibly annexed the region, the nationalists started a struggle for regional autonomy. According to the 1998 census (results of the 2011 census are not yet publicly available), Balochistan has an area of 347,190 square kilometers, and its population is 6.5 million, making it the largest province of Pakistan but with the small- est number of people (Population Census Organization, 2012). It has the highest unemployment rate, 33.48 percent, compared to 19.1 percent for Punjab and 19.68 percent, for Pakistan overall (Population Census Organization, 2012). Balochistan’s literacy rate is 26.6, against the national average of 47 percent; only 20 percent of the people have reliable access to drinking water as compared to 86 percent of Pakistan; and 47 percent of the population lives below the poverty line (Senate of Pakistan 2005). Although the government has launched mega- development projects, like Gwadar Port, there is no “road map for the social development of a region whose social indicators are the most challenging in South Asia” (Fazl- e-Haider 2006b). There is short supply of, or no, infrastructure such as roads, communications, and water supply. Balochistan’s remote areas continue to present a medieval picture with “donkey fans” (handheld fans made of cane) used on hot summer nights and long distances covered on camels. Barely 20 percent of the population has access to electricity. In the absence of sanitation and healthcare facilities, the incidence rate per 100,000 population for tuberculosis is 177 and for malaria 6.56, respectively, which is thirty times the average for the country. The province also has the highest child mortality rate (Fazl-e-Haider 2006b). Yet Balochistan, Pakistan’s poorest province, is the richest in such natural resources as natural gas, copper, uranium, gold, coal, silver, platinum, as well as potential oil reserves. It provides 36 percent of Pakistan’s total gas production. Gas was discovered at Sui in the Dera Bugti region in 1952. It was piped to The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 127 Punjab, Sindh, and the North West Frontier Province (NWFP) and became a major revenue earner for the federal government. But gas was made available to Balochistan’s own capital, Quetta, only in the 1980s and even today, piped gas is available to a mere four out of twenty-eight districts (ICG 2006: 16). Not surprisingly, only 17 percent of the gas total is consumed by Balochistan and 83 percent by the rest of the country. Also, the gas price is much lower than in other provinces. For instance, Balo- chistan gets $0.29 per 1,000 cubic feet, whereas Sindh gets $1.65 and Punjab $2.35 (Fazl- e-Haider 2006a). Balochistan receives merely a 12.4 percent royalty for supplying gas. The Saindak project for copper exploration has been given to China, which gets 50 percent of the profit. Of the remainder, 48 percent goes to the central government and only 2 percent to Balochistan.5

Provincial autonomy The major demand of the Baloch nationalists has always been provincial autonomy and local control over their resources. This has been denied to them since the creation of Pakistan. As mentioned above, during British rule Balochistan was a political agency, ruled indirectly by the political agent of the governor- general. After Partition, however, the new state managers centralized the state system. The founder and first governor- general of Pakistan, Mohammad Ali Jinnah, constituted an advisory council for Balochistan to be run directly by him. In 1955, with the imposition of the One Unit Scheme, any territorial identity of Balochistan had been eliminated (Khan 2005: 115–116). In 1958 and the early 1960s, when the nationalists were protesting against One Unit and asking for provincial autonomy, the government launched military operations against them. It took Pakistan twenty- three years to grant Balochistan provincial status in 1970. The same year, when national and provincial elections were held, the National Awami (People’s) Party (NAP) won the largest block of seats in both the NWFP and Balochistan and formed governments there in alliance with a religious party, Jamiat-e-Ulema- e-Islam (Party of Scholars of Islam). Because the region had been ruled by the central government since Pakistan had annexed Kalat in 1948, Punjabis and other non- Baloch dominated the administration. The literacy rate was extremely low, and the central government exploited local resources, which led to overall impoverishment. Figures collected by the economist Omer Noman for the 1970s are quite stag- gering: Balochistan’s per capita monthly income was $54, only 60 percent of the Punjab’s level. Pakistan’s literacy rate was 18 percent, whereas Balochistan’s was 6 percent. Eighty percent of Pakistan’s gas production was from Balo- chistan, which saved an estimated $275 million in foreign exchange, but royal- ties for the local government were only $1.2 million. Out of 830 higher civil service personnel in Pakistan, only 181 were Baloch. In 1972, out of twenty provincial department heads only one was Baloch (Noman 1990: 64–65). 128 A. Khan When the NAP government came to power in Balochistan in 1972 it started trying to rectify these imbalances. But the central government of Pakistan’s first elected prime minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, was not in favor of such reforms, believing they would go against the interests of the dominant ethnic groups, Pun- jabis, and other non- Baloch who controlled business and Balochistan’s minimal industrial sector. Finally, the clash of interests created so much bitterness between the central and provincial governments that Bhutto, in alliance with the military and civil bureaucracy, which is dominated by Punjabis and Mohajirs (North Indian Muslim immigrants), concocted a case of conspiracy against the NAP government. In early 1973, in a well orchestrated operation, Pakistani authorities entered the Iraqi Embassy in Islamabad and discovered a cache of 300 Soviet sub- machine guns and 48,000 rounds of ammunition. The government alleged that the weapons were destined for Balochistan, some 1,300 kilometers south of the capital, although according to Hussain Haqqani, the “U.S. diplomats and Paki- stani intelligence officials knew that the Iraqi arms were meant for Baloch rebels in the Iranian part of Balochistan—Iraq’s response to Iran’s support for Kurdish rebels in Iraq” [my emphasis] (Haqqani 2005: 102). The elected NAP government was dismissed, and governor’s rule was imposed. Hence the Baloch were not even allowed a year to run their own affairs. The Baloch response to the action was to launch an armed struggle that soon turned into a bloody war with the powerful Pakistan military. The Bhutto government called out some 80,000 troops, with air cover from the Pakistan Air Force. Iran’s government provided thirty Cobra helicopters with their own pilots to fight 55,000 Baloch guerrillas.6 The conflict cost the lives of an estimated 3,300 army troops, 5,300 guerrillas, and thousands of civilians (Fulcher 2006). The Bhutto government was toppled by the military in July 1977. The chief of army staff and leader of the coup, General Zia ul-Haq, declared a ceasefire, called back the troops, and as a gesture of goodwill released NAP leaders and workers from prison. Nonetheless, most of the major Baloch leaders, with their secular politics and contempt for military rule, saw Zia as a religious- minded military dictator and could not accept his rule. They therefore went into exile and returned to Pakistan only after Zia’s death in 1988. For more than two decades, Balochistan was relatively calm; the nationalists realized they could not win a war against Pakistan’s powerful army. But the bitter memories of the 1970s war lingered, for the army had indiscriminately bombarded civilians, and thousands of families lost almost everything they had.7 During Zia’s rule, nationalists were less restive because the government had launched some development schemes—construction of roads and small dams and the expansion of power transmission and grid stations, which boosted agriculture. Quetta received piped gas from Sui for the first time since its discovery four decades earlier. Also, starting with Zia’s partyless elections in 1985 and continuing with several elections from 1988–99, there was renewed political activity in which Baloch nationalists participated fully. Indeed, Attaullah Mengal, the NAP chief minister whose government had been dismissed by The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 129 Bhutto in the 1970s, was indirectly involved in this political process, and Men- gal’s son, Akhtar Mengal, became chief minister of Balochistan in 1997.

The new insurgency In 1999 that political process came to an end when a coup led by General Pervez Musharraf toppled the elected government of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. The Baloch always feel more alienated when there is army rule because in the Punjabi- dominated army they have almost no representation. On the other hand, Musharraf further infuriated the nationalists by announcing mega- development projects in Balochistan, including exploration of natural resources and the construction of Gwadar Port and two army cantonments, with hardly any representation of or benefits for the Baloch.

The Gwadar Port issue The main trigger for the new wave of nationalist militancy was the Pakistan central government’s announcement in 2001 that it would build a port—with Chinese participation—at Gwadar on the southwest coast of Balochistan. The port is one of the mega-projects with no local participation. When President Musharraf signed the project agreement with Chinese Vice Premier Wu Bangguo on March 24, 2002, no representative of the provincial government was present (Grare 2006). Work on the project, solely run by the federal government, started that month, with China paying $198 million of the total construction cost of $248 million and providing 450 engineers and workers (ICG 2006: 14). Gwadar Port is designed as a “regional hub for transit and trans- shipment of goods for Afghanistan, Central Asia, and the Middle East,” and its city is designed to replicate Dubai (ICG 2006: 14–15). This is a big transformation for a poor and isolated fishing town. Although the locals and Baloch nationalists welcomed the initial decision by the elected Nawaz government in 1992, there is now increasing suspicion about the real intentions of the central government and Pakistan army. Without local participation, residents have started viewing the project as the central government’s plan to col- onize them. And there are good reasons for that perception, as quoted by Kaplan (2009) based on the report of a local monthly Pakistani magazine:

Some observers share the view that the Gwadar project is one of the biggest land boondoggles in Pakistan’s history . . . the local people owned the land through generations but lacked documents of ownership. The elite have bribed revenue clerks to register Gwadar land in their names; the land was then resold at rock- bottom prices to developers from Karachi, Lahore, and other major cities . . . illegally allotted to civilian and military bureaucrats living elsewhere . . . the poor and uneducated Baluch [i.e. Baloch] population had been shut out . . . Gwadar became a lightning rod for Baluch hatred of Punjabi- ruled Pakistan. 130 A. Khan Though Pakistan’s army has been notorious for land grabbing in other parts of the country, especially Sindh, in Gwadar’s case the army’s tactics of treating the land as a noman’s land seem to have broken its own record. Baloch nationalists believe:

The Pakistani army is the biggest land grabber. . . . It is giving away the coast of Baluchistan [Balochistan] for peanuts, to the Punjabis. . . . In Gwadar, the army is operating as a mafia, falsifying land records. They say we don’t have papers to prove our ownership of the land, though we’ve been there for centuries. (Kaplan 2009)

The livelihood of the people of Gwadar for years has depended on the fishing industry. But a key part of the city was allocated for construction of the port. Since this started in 2002, there has been no improvement in the living standard of the local people. Indeed, a parallel town is being built close to the port to distinguish new settlements from the old town.8 A five- star hotel has been built on top of the hill, overlooking the port and slum city of Gwadar, which provides food and accommodations to foreign workers and well- to-do tourists from Karachi. The port, hotel, and surrounding area allocated for a naval base, an elite housing enclave, and a high- class coastal resort are protected by paramilitary checkpoints. There is no access for ordinary local people. As far as the old Gwadar city is concerned, it still lacks basic amenities such as health, education, and sanitation. There is a hospital, but it lacks modern facilities. There is one intermediate college, which has two shifts, morning and evening, one for boys, one for girls. There is no institution for technical education. Garbage dumps are spread all over the town. Since construction of the port, there has been a rapid increase in the population as people from surrounding areas moved in seeking jobs and better living standards; but there has been no increase in resources allocated for them.9 As a high city official put it in an interview with the author:

Gwadar used to be a poor but peaceful town with no class differences. With the development of the port and new township, however, that is changing. The gap between the locals and non- locals is in fact the gap between the poor and the rich. It’s a gap between development and the locals. The development should have been for us and then others could come and have a share. But unfortunately that is not the case. With the building of Gwadar Port, the locals, naturally, hoped that it would bring prosperity to them. But what we see today is quite disappointing. Gwadar land has been allocated to the personnel of military and civil bureaucracy. As if that was not enough, now people of the old Gwadar town are threatened [with having] to leave their ancestral land and move elsewhere.10

In a separate interview with the author, Hussain Ashraf, twice a minister in the Balochistan cabinet, said: The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 131 The central government claims that Baloch sardars (tribal chiefs) are anti- development. It’s laughable for Gwadar because we do not have any sardars. We are not tribal people. We are fishermen. The question is: what do they mean by development? Building cantonments and naval bases? That’s not development. That’s colonization. For the last 55 years we were not allowed to benefit from our resources. Sui gas goes to the rest of Paki- stan but we do not have it. Frankly, they want to eliminate us. We did not see a better future yesterday. We do not see a better future today. The only future that we can see is that Gwadar town will become (the) Lyari of the new Gwadar town.[11] We are the Kurds of Pakistan.12

It is estimated that the development schemes and projects in Gwadar announced so far will require at least one million workers. Gwadar’s population is only 60,000, with little education and skills. That means outsiders will be invited to come and work on the projects. Already “almost all the construction contracts (have been) awarded to non- Baloch, mainly Punjabi, firms. . . . Of the 600 personnel that worked on the first phase of construction, only 100 were Baloch, and they were mainly day- laborers” (Fulcher 2006). This is a nightmare scenario for Baloch nationalists who believe the influx of outsiders will eventually outnumber the Baloch population.

Role of the military A report by the ICG in 2006 placed the responsibility for the worsening conflict in Balochistan squarely on the Musharraf government and the military command. The report noted that “tensions between the government and its Baloch opposition have grown because of Islamabad’s heavy- handed armed response to Baloch militancy and its refusal to negotiate demands for political and economic autonomy” (ICG 2006: i). The Baloch nationalists as well as liberal and independent circles in Pakistan tend to agree with this line of argument. The Pakistan military, however, does not seem to agree. As pointed out earlier, the Pakistan army has always been more inclined to find military solutions to political and administrative issues. The attitude of the Musharraf regime toward the Balochistan problem may well have been the worst in Pakistan’s history. Soon after coming to power, Musharraf started talking about the construction of Gwadar Port and two cantonments. When Baloch nationalists expressed their resentment, the president’s argument was not different from that of his predecessors, including President Ayub Khan and Prime Minister Bhutto, but his tone was widely perceived as stubborn and aggressive. Musharraf ’s point was that tribal chiefs were anti- development because they feared losing control over their people. Later amending his stance, he insisted that only three out of seventy- eight tribal chiefs, namely, Nawab Akbar Bugti, Nawab Khair Bux Marri, and Sardar Ataullah Mengal, were “troublemakers” (HRCP 2006). Mush- arraf, on local private TV channels, warned Baloch militants that it was not the 1970s and that if they did not get in line, “they will be struck with weapons— they will not know what happened to them” (HRCP 2006). 132 A. Khan The Baloch nationalists largely laughed off this attitude, apparently agreeing that it was not the 1970s, when they were neither properly organized nor adequately armed. How a simmering insurgency of over two decades with no open armed conflict was turned into a bloody armed conflict by the Musharraf regime becomes clear with a look at the same HRCP report. This chronicled the major events after Musharraf took power on October 12, 1999. In January 2000, unknown assailants assassinated a judge of the Balochistan High Court. The central government responded by arresting an octogenarian nationalist leader, Nawab Khair Bux Marri, and keeping him in solitary confine- ment for 18 months. Soon after the arrest, the Baloch Liberation Army (BLA) emerged. Although it has largely cloaked its identity, the organization claimed responsibility for a number of bomb blasts, acts of sabotage, and rocket attacks on government installations. In June 2002, army troops were deployed in the gas region of Dera Bugti to besiege and blockade the town. Nawab Akbar Bugti, chief of the Bugti tribe, and his tribesmen were given a deadline to surrender. Bugti and others were accused of providing protection to criminals and terrorists responsible for rocket attacks on gas installations in Sui. Incidents of violence increased steadily with the pace of construction in Gwadar, the expansion of cantonments, and the acquisition of land for cantonments and other military enterprises. In January 2005, the rape of a female doctor, Shazia Khalid, working at the Sui Hospital complex in Dera Bugti was reported in the press. Bugti accused an army officer; the government tried to cover up the incident. The officer was allowed to give a lengthy statement on state-owned Pakistan Television, presenting his side of the story; the president publicly vouched for the officer’s innocence. In February 2005, paramilitary forces raided locations at New- Kahan, a Marri tribe area in Kohlu District. Local people, including women and children, were allegedly roughed up, and a Pakistani flag was hoisted on the guesthouse of the sardar, a gesture that it had been conquered. In March 2005, tensions were high when patrols of the Frontier Constabulary (FC) and armed Bugti tribesmen came face to face, leading to harsh words. An exchange of fire with rocket launchers followed. According to credible reports, eight paramilitary personnel died while sixty- two local people were killed in the attacks by security forces. On Decem- ber 14, eight rockets were fired at a paramilitary base on the outskirts of Kohlu City as President Musharraf visited it. On December 15, rockets were fired at a helicopter carrying the inspector general and deputy inspector- general of FC in Kohlu, injuring both.13 The HRCP report also included reports of arbitrary detentions, torture, disappearances, and abuse by security forces. The report covered events through December 2005 and was published in January 2006. Since then, violence in Balochistan has increased exponentially as the military has launched operations against the militants. The mini-war has resulted in the displacement of thousands of people, mostly women and children. The conflicts in Dera Bugti and Kohlu alone have forced 84,000 people to leave their homes (ICG 2007: 5). The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 133 The situation further deteriorated with the killing of Akbar Bugti, one of the three nationalist leaders that Musharraf described as “troublemakers,” in August 2006. Bugti, along with thirty- seven of his tribesmen, was killed when helicopter gunships dropped bombs at his hideout as part of the military operation. Twenty- one security personnel also died in the attack (Shahid 2006). To condemn the killing of Bugti, Baloch nationalists held a grand jirga (tribal elders’ meeting) attended by more than 380 leaders, including eighty-five tribal chiefs, belying Musharraf ’s claim that he enjoyed the support of all but three tribal chiefs (ICG 2007: 12). The killing sparked widespread protest rallies in Balochistan and some parts of Sindh. As violence increased in Balochistan, so did the number of missing persons. With the military regime’s change of tactics from a low intensity approach to one of full frontal attacks, a large number of Baloch started disappearing. According to one Baloch nationalist, some 8,000 to 12,000 Baloch have dis- appeared. He said that a couple of years ago the interior minister acknowledged that around 5,000 Baloch had been arrested but added that the figure has gone up (ICG 2006: 5). It is a measure of the seriousness of the matter that in August 2007, provincial opposition leaders moved three identical motions in the Balo- chistan Parliament asking the government to “take notice of the violation of the constitution by intelligence agencies and arrest of political activists without fulfilling legal requirements” (Kasi 2007). The military also employed an ideological push to counter secular nationalism with religious fanaticism. The Baloch are deeply religious people in their social lives, but their politics has always been secular. The reason is simple: they have fears about the loss of their ethnic identity but have never felt a threat to their religious beliefs. Baloch nationalists are strongly opposed to mixing religion with politics and therefore have no sympathy for the Taliban. Despite a ban on madrasas (seminaries) as part of Pakistan’s contribution to the US “War on Terror,” the Pakistani federal government, through the Ministry of Religious Affairs (MRA), continued to support their establishment. In a region where the lack of secular education is more striking than any other province, and where 50 percent of children are compelled to attend these religious schools, it is not surprising that the national budget for the MRA is $15.4 million while the allocation for the secular education ministry is only $2.56 million (Fulcher 2006). Baloch nationalists see the government’s support for fundamentalist parties as the “Talibanization” of Balochistan (Fulcher 2006). In the Musharraf regime’s national and provincial elections in 2002, the government and its intelligence agencies actively supported the conservative religious alliance Mutahida Majlis- e-Amal (United Action Forum, MMA) against secular nationalists. Subsequently, the ruling party in alliance with the MMA formed the government in Balochistan in 2003. The MMA was dominated by a Sunni (the majority sect in Pakistan) party, Jamiat-e-Ulema- e-Islam, Fazl- ul- Rehman group, (JUI- F ). JUI- F is widely believed to be a staunch supporter of the Taliban. It has a wide network of madrasas throughout Pakistan, but the majority of them are in the NWFP and Balochistan. While in power, the JUI- F 134 A. Khan poured “resources into their madrasa network to consolidate and expand their political hold over the province” (ICG 2005: 20). The Sunni JUI- F ’s ascendance to power sparked sectarian violence in the province, leading to terrorist attacks on five major Shia processions and mosques since 2002. The deadliest came on Ashura, the holiest day for the Shia sect, in 2004, with the anti- Taliban Shia Hazara community as the main target. It left forty-five people dead in Quetta (ICG 2005: 20).

Regional and global interests Strategically located, Balochistan shares its western border with Iran and northern border with Afghanistan. With the construction of Gwadar Port, Balochistan has also attracted the interest of China, Central Asian states, and the United States. In the 1970s, it was quite obvious that India and Afghanistan were supporting Baloch nationalists: the two states had long- standing territorial disputes with Pakistan. But that situation has now changed. Afghanistan is occupied by the allied forces and increasingly threatened by the resurgence of the Taliban. As far as India is concerned, as a growing economic power, its interests have shifted from strategic to economic. If in the 1970s instability in Pakistan was in the interest of India, today it is political stability in Pakistan that India finds favorable to its economic ambitions. Energy-starved India is keen on the proposed 2,600-kilometer Iran–Pakistan–India gas pipeline, of which some 750 kilometres will pass through Balochistan. Thus instability in Balochistan goes against Indian interests. India has openly and repeatedly criticized Pakistan army operations in Balochistan, but here too its aim is to gain the sympathy of Baloch nationalists for future economic gains, rather than to destabilize Pakistan. India is also interested in Afghanistan and Central Asian states for economic reasons, for which stability in Balochistan is imperative. The rhetoric that the previous Musharraf regime used about Indian support for Baloch nationalists, without providing any evidence of such involvement, has reached new heights with the claim by Rehman Malik, the new civilian government’s advisor to the prime minister on interior affairs, that “Russia and India were supporting the Balo- chistan Liberation Army (BLA) in its secession bid” (Alvi 2009). Iran, because of its own considerable Baloch population (1.2 million) near the Iran–Pakistan border, has always been wary of any nationalist uprising in Balo- chistan. Indeed in the 1970s conflict, the shah of Iran provided Pakistan with $200 million and US- supplied combat helicopters, some of them manned by Iranian pilots, to crush the Baloch armed struggle (Khan 2005). Economically, too, stability in Balochistan helps Iran, as one of the world’s largest oil and gas producers, to supply gas to India and Pakistan. In the 1970s, the U.S. interest in Balochistan was restricted to its concerns about the Soviet Union’s influence in the region. After the 2001 terrorist attacks in the U.S., however, the situation has seen a sea change. U.S. forces are engaged in a protracted war against the Taliban in Afghanistan. The porous border between that country and Balochistan makes the Pukhtun- dominated (the The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 135 majority of Taliban are ethnic Pukhtun) northern region of the latter a safe haven for the Taliban. The U.S. also does not want anything to divert the Pakistan army from its assigned job of active contribution to the so- called War on Terror. As far as secular Baloch nationalism is concerned, in the absence of a communist threat the U.S. could not worry less. However, despite the fact that there is no love lost between Baloch nationalists and the Taliban, political instability and the serious law and order situation in Balochistan have made easier the Islamic militants’ efforts to recruit and train. That is as distressing to the U.S. as it is to Baloch nationalists. Another worry for the U.S. is the building of Gwadar Port with the help of China, which will naturally facilitate a strategic superiority in the Indian Ocean for the emerging economic giant. Washington is also opposed to the proposed Iran–Pakistan–India pipeline, believing that it will boost the Iranian economy and “reduce the West’s economic leverage over Tehran—economic leverage that is necessary to persuade Iran to abandon its nuclear ambitions” (Vohra 2008).

Nationalist militancy past and present There are stark differences between the nationalist insurgencies of the past and the current one. There are three major factors distinguishing the new militancy from the previous ones: emergence of a middle- class leadership and cadre, easy availability of sophisticated weapons, and unity among various tribes and classes. In the past, nationalist parties led by tribal chiefs organized armed resistance to the government against its intervention and intrusion. They fought against the military as a poorly armed guerrilla force from hideouts in the mountains. Today, however, the situation is different in many ways. There is no nationalist political party thus far that has claimed responsibility for the violence. The nationalist movement is no longer restricted to guerrillas in mountains. There is sporadic violence all over Balochistan, in cities as well as in remote areas. Although the targets are usually government installations and personnel, civilians also suffer loss of life and property. The central government claims that the BLA, supported by nationalist tribal chiefs, namely Attaullah Mengal, Khair Bux Marri, and the late Akbar Bugti, is behind the violence. But it has not been able to provide any evidence for that. The BLA keeps claiming responsibility for attacks, but it is still not clear who is its leader, how it recruits its activists, and from where. It is speculated that there is not one but three groups, the others being the Balochistan People’s Lib- eration Front (BPLF ) and the Balochistan Liberation Front (BLF ) (ICG 2005: 12). An opposition member of the Balochistan assembly during the Musharraf regime, Kachkool Ali Khan, agreed that there was more than one militant group “with different tactics but an identical goal—to protect the Baloch people from an oppressive and exploitative center” (ICG 2005: 12). Despite the government’s allegations, it is quite obvious that this time the movement is not led and controlled by tribal chiefs. During the past three 136 A. Khan decades a new generation of leadership and cadres has emerged belonging to the urban middle classes. There are two organizations with substantive support among this class, the Baloch Students Organization (BSO) and the National Party (NP). The BSO is an old organisation formed in 1967. It “represents educated Baloch middle class and students” as an independent political force with demands for “jobs for Baloch youth and recognition for Balochi [the language] as a medium of instruction in the province” (ICG 2005: 11). The BSO is a leftist organization opposed to the tribal system; it advocates a modern democratic system for Balochistan. Its cadres were fond of the leftist former NAP governor, the late Mir Ghous Bux Bizenjo, who, though chief of the Bizenjo tribe, lived and behaved like a middle-class intellectual.14 The NP, led by Dr. Abdul Hayee Baloch, is a post- 1970s conflict phenomenon. The NP’s support base is the Makran Division in the south and coastal areas that are not in the grip of the tribal system. With its educated middle-class cadre, the NP on the one hand is opposed to the tribal system, but on the other it rejected the Musharraf government’s claim that tribal chiefs were responsible for Balochistan’s problems. Instead, the party placed the blame for the crisis “squarely on the military’s shoulders” (ICG 2006: 10). The second factor that distinguishes the new insurgency from the previous ones is the easy availability of sophisticated arms and ammunition. The long war (1979–92) by Afghan mujahideen (holy warriors of Islam) against the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the communist regime in Kabul was covertly but heavily supported by the West and Middle Eastern states via the Pakistani army. A large amount of foreign arms and ammunition made their way to the local markets in Pakistan, particularly to the western and northern border areas. Balo- chistan, after the NWFP, was the major pipeline for the flow of arms to the Afghan Islamist groups. Sophisticated arms flooded the province as army officers sold to local buyers.15 Baloch leaders claim that financial contributions to the nationalist cause by rich Baloch compatriots and sympathizers have made it easy for militant nationalists to buy weapons “in the flourishing black market along the Afghan frontier” (Harrison 1981). The third factor is the unity among various tribes and classes for the cause of provincial autonomy and local control over resources. The central government used to play one tribe against another to weaken the nationalist movements in the past. This time, however, the military is confronted with a united nationalist movement comprising a majority of the tribes. The unity among the tribes has more to do with demographic changes in the province and a change in the nature of nationalist leadership and its tactics than with a change of heart on the part of tribal leaders. In previous conflicts, certain tribes, namely, the Marri, Mengal, and Bugti, would confront the central government demanding provincial autonomy and control over local resources. But most of the other tribes would either stay out of the conflict or side with the government. In the new insurgency, the three radical tribes are not directly involved, or at least have not claimed to be involved. According to available information, the The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 137 new movement is led and supported by a young, educated middle- class leadership and cadre.16 The attacks of the insurgents are not restricted to certain regions and localities but are carried out throughout the province. Under the circumstances, the tribal leaders who would be inclined to side with the government feel threatened by the insurgents, whereas the nationalist tribal leaders seem to be quite happy with the militant nationalists’ activities. Thus, uniting with other tribes and not appearing to look like government sympathizers seem to be tactical moves. The fourth factor is that Pakistan’s law and order and security situation has deteriorated so badly that the military is in no position to concentrate on Balo- chistan. Pakistan’s military is deeply engaged in the NWFP–Afghanistan border areas as part of the U.S. “War on Terror” and also faces its own conflict in Kashmir. In the 1970s conflict, when the military concentrated on Balochistan with no other distractions, it still lost over 3,000 of its personnel.

Towards a possible solution The seriousness of the crisis in Balochistan forced the ruling party- dominated Senate (upper house) under the military regime to set up a committee in 2004 to explore the reasons behind the crisis and come up with recommendations. It is obvious from the 2005 report’s recommendations that none of the Baloch grievances are unfounded. The recommendations included:

Maximum representation for the province on the boards of Pakistan petroleum, oil, and gas development corporations; allocation of 5% of the total expenditure of a successful exploration company awarded concession in an area, for social welfare projects; strict implementation of the 5.4% employment quota for the Baloch in federal ministries, divisions, corporations, and departments, and compensation for the lack of Baloch recruitment in armed forces and civil security forces; immediate shifting of Gwadar Port Author- ity head office from Karachi to Gwadar; more than 50% representation for Balochistan on the board of directors of this authority; allocation of 7% of gross revenue collected by Gwadar Port Authority to the development of Balochistan; preference to the locals in employment at Gwadar port followed by the people of Makran [District] and the rest of Balochistan; and establishment of a fisheries training institute, a vocational technical training institute, a research institute, and degree colleges for the local youth of Makran and Balochistan; removal of the unnecessary presence of FC, Coast Guards, and check posts from interior of the province; review of cases of political workers arrested in Balochistan, release of persons implicated in minor offenses; postponement of building cantonments at Gwadar, Dera Bugti, and Kohlu till major issues are resolved. (Senate of Pakistan 2005)

Because the report recommended a fair representation for the Baloch, it had the potential to have a positive impact on the situation in the province, but the 138 A. Khan recommendations were put into cold storage and never implemented. The government-appointed author of the report blamed hawks in the military for non- implementation, not the Pakistan army and the Musharraf regime. Not surprisingly, in the report itself, the army’s misdemeanors in Balochistan were not taken into account, except one: acquisition of vast lands for housing and com- mercial purposes by the armed forces. Another important point is that the report tended to address legalistic and constitutional matters rather than political and administrative ones. As military intervention in Balochistan has become the major cause of violence in the region, its withdrawal needs to be addressed on a priority basis. That is why both the ICG and the HRCP have recommended that reliance on a military solution should be ended by immediately stopping army action, sending troops back to their barracks, and restricting their role to guarding the province’s land and nautical borders. The ICG recommended that to de- escalate the situation, the government should withdraw the FC, replacing it with provincial security forces that are firmly under provincial control; dismantle all check posts manned by paramilitary and other federal security agencies; halt construction of cantonments and end plans to construct additional military or paramilitary facilities. Taking note of the widespread disappearances, the report demanded immediate production of all detainees before the courts and release of political prisoners; an end to the political role of intelligence agencies, military and civil, barring them from detaining prisoners; withdrawal of travel restrictions, internal and external, on Baloch opposition leaders and activists; ending of intimidation, torture, arbitrary arrests, disappearances, and extrajudicial killings; allowing all political parties to function freely, respecting the constitutionally guaranteed rights of speech and expression, assembly, association, and movement; and respect for the constitutional obligation to preserve and promote distinct language and culture (ICG 2006: 3). The Baloch demands are not very different from the recommendations of the ICG and HRCP. They demand the following: an end to construction of military and paramilitary cantonments, and redirection of funds toward the socioeconomic development of the province’s conflict- stricken districts; immediate assessment of damage caused to the displaced populations of Dera Bugti and Kohlu Districts and arranging the repatriation of displaced people and compensation to them; cancellation of all allotments of civil/military lands made in 1999–2008 in Gwadar and Lasbela Districts; a policy of paying equal wellhead prices for gas and a 30 percent royalty to Balochistan; an end to the intelligence agencies’ role in Balochistan’s political, social, and tribal affairs (the agencies are regarded by the majority in the province as a source of instability, which provokes conflict among the tribes and the political parties) (Baloch 2008). After the forced resignation of Musharraf in August 2008, although the situation in Balochistan remains the same, the rhetoric of the civilian government in Islamabad is different. The elected government has offered an apology to the Baloch people for the excesses perpetrated on them. It has decided to abolish The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 139 thirty- five of the fifty- four security check posts and remove the names of Baloch leaders from the Exit Control List, which forbids citizens from leaving the country. These are positive steps, with a potential to assuage Baloch grievances. The civilian government, however, has not said anything about the issue that sparked the current wave of violence in Balochistan, the presence of troops. Obviously officials are in no position to confront the powerful military command. It is believed that at one stage during the 1970s crisis, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto was willing to negotiate with the NAP leaders and pull out the troops he had sent to crush them. But the military command refused to comply, arguing that “after a considerable loss they had better ‘clean up’ ” (Abdul Hayee Baloch, cited in Khan 2005: 123). There are no indications that the military mind- set has since changed. Indeed, after long years of repressive military regimes under Zia ul-Haq (1977–88) and Musharraf (1999–2008), the Pakistan army seems more confident about its crisis tactics. The shaky nature of the civilian government, and the military command’s behind- the-scene control over issues of national and international significance, will render meaningless any meaningful effort to find a political solution to the Baloch crisis. The Baloch militants are not unaware of this. Despite the civilian government’s goodwill gestures and its decision to remove most of the security check posts, violence in Balochistan continues unabated.

Conclusion What lies at the heart of the Balochistan crisis is the insensitivity and shortsight- edness of successive governments, starting from the inception of the Pakistani state. The real issue in Balochistan was, and continues to be, political and administrative. A political solution to the problem has not been sought because Paki- stan’s civil and military establishment has always been unwilling to accommodate elective politics and representative rule. The history of Pakistan is one of bureaucratic and military subversion of democracy. So much so that even the first democratically elected government of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto tended to depend on that establishment, eventually causing its own downfall and disruption of elected rule. Repeated interventions of the military in politics and its subversion of representative rule have left Pakistan at the mercy of its armed forces. Pakistan’s military is so entrenched in the power structure of the state that it is difficult to imagine it will ever come under the control of an elected civilian administration. A Baloch nationalist, Kachkool Ali Khan, has aptly said: “The people of Paki- stan did not get a nation—the Pakistan army got a state” (ICG 2006: ii). The state that the army got has been systematically turned into a military empire. Civil and democratic institutions have progressively been weakened and brought under the empire’s control. No matter whether the country has civilian rule or military, real power remains in the hands of the military command. That command treats Pakistan as its fiefdom and the people as its subjects. Ithas earned the dubious distinction of being an army that keeps trying to conquer its 140 A. Khan own people whenever they refuse to follow its diktat. In 1971 the military massacred Bengalis in the east wing of the country. During 1973–77, it massacred the Baloch. In 1983 it humiliated, jailed, and killed Sindhis. Today, it is once again involved in the killing of the Baloch. It also has the notoriety of an army that has repeatedly intrigued against civilian governments and was instrumental in their dismissals. Although the present civilian government is the longest to hold on to power, the situation in Balochistan continues to deteriorate. While the government continues to blame a “foreign hand” in the ongoing insurgency, this claim has been refuted several times by the insurgents and political observers. In the last few years the issue of missing persons and political assassinations has worsened (Baloch 2012; Khurasan 2012). This article has argued that the conflict in Balochistan is unlikely to be resolved, in the absence of a comprehensive change in the Pakistani state’s attitudes and policies toward its peripheral regions. Under the circumstances, it is unrealistic to think that the military will voluntarily relinquish political power to elected representatives in the near future. While talking to a senior civil servant who worked in key positions in various troubled areas of Pakistan, the author asked what he thought was the solution to the problem of militancy. The civil servant’s answer: “Disarm the army and bring it under civilian control.”17 Politi- cally and logically an appropriate idea indeed, but practically, near impossible at the moment.

Notes 1 This chapter is a version of a paper first published in Asian Survey, © 2009 by the Regents of the University of California. Reprinted from Asian Survey, Vol. 49, No. 6, pp. 1071–1091, by permission of the Regents. 2 The author would like to thank Siddiq Baloch, a senior journalist and Baloch nationalist, for providing him with contacts in Gwadar and for insights on the Balochistan crisis. He also thanks UNE Asia- Pacific Research Theme Group for seed funding for fieldwork in Pakistan. 3 Under the scheme, the four regional entities of the west wing of Pakistan were amal- gamated into one unit to establish some parity with the country’s east wing, Bengal (now the nation of Bangladesh), because of the latter’s overwhelming majority in population. See Khan 2005. 4 During 1879–80 and 1902–03, there was an 82 percent tax increase in Sibi, and between 1882 and 1895 a 350 percent increase in the Quetta region. Gankovsky 1971: 203–205. 5 This material comes from an interview with nationalist leader Mir Hasil Bizenjo, as quoted in Shamim-ur-Rehman, “Nothing but Provincial Autonomy,” Dawn, August 21, 2006. 6 The Iranian regime of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi feared that the insurgency would spread across the border to 1.2 million Baloch of eastern Iran. Harrison 2006. 7 Siddiq Baloch, Baloch nationalist and senior journalist, telephone conversation with author, September 2008. 8 The author visited Gwadar in January 2008. 9 Abdul Ghaffar Hoth, deputy mayor of Gwadar City, interview with author in Gwadar, January 2008. 10 Ibid. The insurgency in Balochistan, Pakistan 141 11 Lyari is one of the poorest suburbs of Karachi, inhabited by mostly Baloch people. 12 Hussain Ashraf, interview with the author in Gwadar, January 2008. 13 HRCP (2006): 45–46. 14 Author observed this while attending a BSO convention in Quetta in late 1980. Author had also interviewed Bizenjo several times in Karachi for Dawn. 15 Siddiq Baloch, Baloch nationalist and senior journalist, telephone conversation with author, September 2008. 16 Siddiq Baloch, Baloch nationalist and senior journalist, telephone conversation with author, September 2008. 17 The interviewee wanted to remain anonymous.

References Alvi, M., 2009, “Russia, India Supporting BLA, Malik Tells Senate,” The News (Karachi), April 23. Baloch, S., 2008, “Undoing the Damage,” Dawn, March 31. Baloch, S., 2012, “If Baloch had foreign backing, they would have better arms,” The Express Tribune, February 29. Fazl- e-Haider, S., 2006a, “Gas Subsidized at Balochistan’s Expense,” Dawn, August 21. Fazl- e-Haider, S., 2006b, “Social Development in Balochistan,” Dawn, January 23. Harrison, S., 1981, In Afghanistan’s Shadow: Baluch Nationalism and Soviet Tempta- tions, Carnegie Endowment, New York. Fulcher, R., 2006, “Balochistan’s History of Insurgency,” Green Left (Australia), Novem- ber 30, 2006, www.greenleft.org.au/2006/693/35987, viewed June 20, 2012. Gankovsky, Yu. V., 1971, The Peoples of Pakistan: An Ethnic History, Nauka Publishing House, Moscow. Grare, F., 2006, Pakistan: The Resurgence of Baluch Nationalism, Carnegie Endow- ment’s South Asia Report No. 65, Washington, D.C. Haqqani, H., 2005, Pakistan: Between Mosque and Military, Vanguard Books, Lahore. Harrison, Selig S., 2006, “Pakistan’s Baloch Insurgency,” Le Monde Diplomatique [Diplomatic World] (October), http://mondediplo.com/2006/10/05baluchistan. HRCP (Human Rights Commission of Pakistan), 2006, Conflict in Balochistan, Report of the Fact-Finding Missions, (December 2005–January 2006), Lahore. ICG (International Crisis Group), 2005, The State of Sectarianism in Pakistan, Asia Report, No. 95 (April 18), www.crisisgroup.org/en/regions/asia/south-asia/pakistan/ 095-the- state-of- sectarianism-in-pakistan.aspx, viewed June 15, 2012. ICG (International Crisis Group), 2006, Pakistan: The Worsening Conflict in Balochistan, Asia Report, No. 119 (September 14), www.crisisgroup.org/en/regions/asia/south- asia/ pakistan/119-pakistan- the-worsening- conflict-in- balochistan.aspx, viewed June 3, 2012. ICG (International Crisis Group), 2007, Pakistan: The Forgotten Conflict in Balochistan, Asia Briefing, No. 69 (October 22), www.crisisgroup.org/en/regions/asia/south-asia/ pakistan/B069-pakistan-the-forgotten- conflict-in- balochistan.aspx, viewed June 1, 2012. Kaplan, R.D., 2009, “The Great Land Robbery,” originally reported in Herald (Karachi, June 2008), quoted in “Pakistan‘s Fatal Shore,” Atlantic, www.theatlantic.com/magazine/ archive/2009/05/pakistan-8217-s- fatal-shore/7385, viewed June 15, 2012. Kasi, A., 2007, “Motions on Missing Persons Disposed Of: Matter Sub Judice, Says Balo- chistan Minister,” Dawn, August 10. Khan, A., 2005, “Baloch Ethnic Nationalism: From Guerrilla War to Nowhere?” in Pol- itics of Identity: Ethnic Nationalism and the State in Pakistan, Sage, New Delhi. 142 A. Khan Khurasan, K., 2012, “We Only Receive back the Bodies: Murder and Mayhem in an Ugly but Little-Known Pakistani Conflict,” The Economist, April 7, www.economist.com/ node/21552248. Noman, O., 1990, Pakistan: A Political and Economic History since 1947, rev. and updated edn, Kegan Paul International, London. Population Census Organization, Government of Pakistan, 2012, 1998 Census Data, www.census.gov.pk/DemographicIndicator.htm, viewed June 30, 2012. Qasir, N., 1991, Pakistan Studies: An Investigation into the Political Economy, 1948–1988, Oxford University Press, Karachi. Senate of Pakistan, 2005, Report of the Parliamentary Committee on Balochistan, No. 7, www.senate.gov.pk/reports/mushahid/11.pdf. Shahid, S., 2006, “Bugti Killed in Operation: Six Officers among 21 Security Personnel Dead,” Dawn, August 27. Vohra, S., 2008, “U.S. Concerns over India-Iran Gas Pipeline,” Voice of America, Wash- ington, D.C., June 18. 8 Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts of Bangladesh1 An unimplemented accord and continued violence

Pranab Kumar Panday and Ishtiaq Jamil

Introduction Ethnic identity is one of the major drivers of continuing struggle in the Chit- tagong Hill Tracts (CHT)2 of Bangladesh—a region that is home to thirteen different indigenous ethnic groups (Uddin 2006).3 These groups have closer ethno-culturalaffinitieswithotherSino-TibetanpeopleinhabitingMyanmarand theIndianstatesofTripuraandMizoramthantheydowithBangalis(Bengalis), the majority of Bangladesh’s population.4 They also differ in religious beliefs (Levene 1999).5 TheintensificationoftheCHTproblemisaconsequenceoftheBangladeshi state’sattempttoimposeaunitaryandhegemonicconceptualizationofnational identityonitspopulace,which,inthecaseoftheCHT,isquitediverse.From 1947to1971,BangladeshwasknownasEastPakistan.Beforeindependence, BangladeshwasapartofthecolonialprovinceofgreaterBengal.Underaunited Pakistan,theBangalisfeltdeprivedofcultural,economic,andpoliticalfreedom by the central regime whose center lay in West Pakistan, nearly 1,000 miles away.ThisdistancecontributedtotheBangladeshis’senseofdistinctcultural andlinguisticidentity,whichlaterdevelopedintoastruggleforindependence (or separatism) from Pakistan. Achieving independence in 1971 consolidated BangaliandlaterBangladeshinationalism.However,inthesubsequentprocess of state formation and nation building, the unique cultural identities of the minorities inhabiting the CHT region failed to draw due recognition by the Bangladeshistate(Mohsin2003). ThecentralBangladeshistate’sunwillingnesstoallowadegreeofpolitical self-ruletotheCHTortopromotetheregion’scultureandlanguages,andthe lack of economic development in the region, have created a strong sense of grievance among the adibasis (original inhabitants) of the CHT (Brauns and Loffer1990;citedinChakraborty2004).Inaddition,theJumma—thecollective termfortheindigenouspeopleoftheCHT—havebeen,andstillare,subjected to harassment by law enforcement agencies and government-sponsored armed groups of Bangali settlers, resulting in the systematic abuse of their human rights.TheresulthasbeenareactiveconsolidationoftheJumma’sidentity.This chapterdescribesthecausesofstrifeintheCHTandhighlightsthecurrentstate 144 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil oftheconflict,aswellaspossiblemovestowardanyformofresolution.Itargues thatthe1997CHTpeaceaccordhasfailedtoalleviatetheconflictintheregion, largelybecauseofits“top-down”natureandinadequateimplementationbythe central government. Without a comprehensive solution to the CHT problem, violencepromisestocontinuelargelyunabatedintheregion.

Causes of conflict in the CHT ThemajorgoalsofthearmedconflictandincessantinsurgencybytheCHT’s indigenouspeopleagainsttheBangladeshistateandsecurityforceshavebeenan attempttoprojecttheirculturalandethnicidentities,andtoprotectthemselves fromtheperceivedexploitationandmiserythattheyhavebeensubjectedtoover the past decades (Dictaan-Bang-oa 2004). The Jumma leadership eventually camearoundtoviewingarmedrebellionastheonlywaytocompelthecentral Bangladeshi state to give more regional autonomy to the CHT—a goal that the indigenous leaders considered necessary in order to protect their culture and well-being. Military intervention by the state, often with indiscriminate brute force,hasaddedfueltothefireofcontinuingstruggle.Asdiscussedbelow,five specificcausescanbediscernedforthecontinuingconflictintheCHT. First,theCHThadthespecialstatusofanautonomouslyadministereddistrict duringBritishcolonialrule,safeguardedbytheCHTRegulationof1900(Gain 2000).6 This regulation barred the sale and transfer of land to non-indigenous peopleandrestrictedtheirimmigrationintotheCHT.TheGovernmentofIndia Actof1935declaredtheCHTa“TotallyExcludedArea.”Underthisarrange- ment,thepeopleoftheCHTenjoyedrelativeautonomyundertraditionaltribal chiefs,administeredbythecentralgovernment(Dictaan-Bang-oa2004).After thePartitionofBritishIndiain1947,theCHTweregiventoPakistan,losing theirspecialstatusandautonomyunderanamendmenttothePakistaniConstitu- tionin1963.Thisamendmenteliminatedimmigrationrestrictionsandallowed the large- scale migration of Bangali settlers into the CHT. The paucity of culti- vablelandandthepressureofincreasingpopulationinBangladeshinducedlarge numbersofnon-tribalpeopletomigratetotheCHT(Ramasubramanian2005).7 ThesesettlersabusedandmisappropriatedthelandsandresourcesoftheJumma people,largelycripplingtheirlivelihood.Asaresult,theHillPeoplelegitimately perceived their identity, culture, religion, and economic well-being as being underthreat(Singh1996:129). Second, conflict over the CHT intensified greatly when the government of PakistanbuilttheKaptaiHydro-ElectricDamin1962.8 The project inundated 218squarekilometers,nearly40percentoftheCHT’sarableland.9 This also forced the relocation of about 100,000 indigenous people, mostly among the Chakmas.Inaddition,about90milesofroadsand10squaremilesofreserved forestwerealsoinundated(Ramasubramanian2005;Hussain1999;Huq2000). Theimpactofthisdamcausedawholegenerationofindigenouspeople,espe- ciallytheChakmas,tosuffer.Thepaharis(hillinhabitants),infact,referredto thedamasa“deathtrap”(Chakraborty2004).Chakrabortypublishedherstudy Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 145 ofthedamin2004andconcludedthatthosewholivedthroughitsconstruction, orgrewupinitsimmediateaftermath,stillfeelitsdevastatingimpactandcon- sider the event as a chronicle of losing their homes (Chakraborty 2004). That wasapointofdepartureforthousandsofCHTpeoplewhoseliveswereforever changed. AthirdfactorthatcontributedtothedevelopmentoftheCHTconflictwasan identitycrisisamongtheHillPeople.TheHillPeoplewerealienatedfrommain- stream society (i.e. Bangalis with a common Bangladeshi culture) through a seriesofsocio-politicalmanipulationsthatbeganwiththeBritishandcontinued after Bangladesh’s independence, creating a sense of “otherness”—politically, culturally,andsocially(Chakraborty2004).Thisidentitycrisisstartedin1947 whentheHillPeoplewereplacedunderPakistan’scontroldespitetheirstrong desiretobemergedwithIndiabecausemostwerenon-Muslims.Theirdemand tomergewithIndiaisoftenusedagainsttheminBangladeshtobrandthemas being pro-India (Mohsin 2000: 61). The post-independence rulers of Bangla- desh,includingthen-PrimeMinisterSheikhMujiburRahman,however,didnot entertaintheirdemands.Instead,theywereadvisedtoassimilatewithinthenew, nationalist Bangali identity of independent Bangladesh (Aminuzzaman and Kabir2005).InthePreamble(Article8)ofthenewConstitutionofBangladesh (adoptedNovember4,1972),nationalism,socialism,democracy,andsecularism were incorporated as state principles. In Article 9, Bangali nationalism was statedasthebasisofstatenationalism:

TheunityandsolidarityoftheBangalination,whichderivingitsidentity fromitslanguageandculture,attainedsovereignandindependentBangla- deshthroughaunitedanddeterminedstruggleinthewarofindependence, shallbethebasisofBangalinationalism. (AminuzzamanandKabir2005:8)

This definition of nationalism was refused by the Hill People under the leadershipofManobendraNarayanLarma,10whoraisedavoiceofdisagreement intheParliamentbysaying:

Youcannotimposeyournationalidentityonothers.IamaChakmanota Bangali.IamacitizenofBangladesh,Bangladeshi.YouarealsoaBangla- deshibutyournationalidentityisBangali....They[HillPeople]cannever becomeBangali. (GovernmentofBangladesh1972:452,citedinAminuzzamanandKabir 2005:8)

However,hisdisagreementdidnotmakeanydistinctmarkontheBangalipolicy makers,whosawBangalinationalismasall-encompassing.Nonetheless,theHill People did not accept a nationalism that excluded their cultural identities: they demandedaconstitutionalguaranteethatwouldsafeguardtheirrights,privileges, and cultural uniqueness. Conversely, continuous refusal of the Bangladeshi 146 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil government to recognize their cultural uniqueness gave birth to the discontent amongtheHillPeoplethatcontributedtothecreationoftheParbatyaChattagram Jana Samhati Samiti (PCJSS)11 on March 7, 1972, under Larma’s leadership, throughwhichtheirdiscontentscouldberaised(AminuzzamanandKabir2005). Fourth,policiesdevisedandimplementedbythegovernmentofBangladesh toestablishahomogeneousBangaliMuslimsocietybyerodingtheethniciden- tityoftheindigenousJummapeopleprovideacontinuingcatalystforthecon- flict in the CHT (ACHR 2004). About 500,000 illegal plains settlers were implantedintotheCHTduring1979–83byprovidinginducementsintheform oflandownership,rations,andothermonetarybenefits(ACHR2004).Ofcourse onemaywonderhowimplantationofthesettlerswasmadepossibleeventhough it was barred through the Act of 1963. As a matter of fact, the decision was implementedintentionallybythethengovernmentviolatingtherulesandregu- lations.Table8.1showstheincreasingBangaliMuslimpopulationintheCHT region,incontrasttoadecliningtrendfortheJummapopulation.TheBangali Muslimpopulation,whichwasaround2percentofthetotalpopulationofthe CHTin1947,roseto49percentin2003.Ontheotherhand,theJumma,who comprised98percentofthetotalpopulationofthehilltractsin1947,declined to51percentin2003(Talukder2005).TheJummapeople,infact,seemdes- tinedtobecomeaminorityintheirownhomelandifthetrendcontinues. TheseofficialfiguresarewidelyseenintheCHTasbeingpoliticallymanipu- latedandmotivated.IndigenoussourcesputtheBangaliMuslimsettlerfigureat morethan65percent(BangladeshWatchdog2008).ItisallegedthattheBangali settlersfrequentlygrablandbyforce,sometimeswiththetacitconsentandcon- nivanceofthelocaladministrationandsecuritypersonnel(mostlyBangalis,with the Bangladesh army stationed in various locations in the CHT) and sometimes byluringilliterateindigenouspeopleandforgingdocuments.InDecember2008, on the eve of the tenth anniversary of the 1997 Chittagong Hill Tracts Peace Accordsigning,apressconferencewasorganizedbytheleadersoftheindige- nous village of Mahalchari in Khagrachari District. The leaders complained aboutencroachmentontheirfarmlandsbyethnicBangalisettlersandallegedthat Bangalisettlershadseizedover366villageacreswiththeassistanceofsecurity forces in that year alone. The leaders also charged that a UN Development

Table 8.1 Increasingtrendofnon-ethnicJummapeopleinCHT(%distribution)

Year Ethnic Jumma people Bangali Muslim/Hindu

1941 98 2 1951 91 9 1961 88 12 1974 77 33 1981 59 41 1991 60 39 2003 51 49

Source:Talukder(2005). Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 147 Program(UNDP)-fundedprojecttocreateanurseryintheindigenousvillageof Maddya Lemuchari could not be implemented because Bangali settlers were buildinghomesintheprojectarea.Eventhoughthelandwastitledtotheindige- nousvillagers,duplicatelandtitleshadbeenissuedtothesettlersbythelocal authorities,anobviousviolationofthelawandthe1997peaceaccord(UNPO 2008a). Moreover, a study by the Bangladesh Society for the Enforcement of HumanRights(BSEHR)conductedin2007–08revealedthatsome61percentof indigenous people say they still face discrimination, 42 percent have been victims of corruption, and 19 percent have been evicted from their ancestors’ land(GalduResourceCenterfortheRightsofIndigenousPeople2008). TheevictionofHillPeopleandlandgrabbingbyBangalisettlers,sometimes incollusionwithgovernmentofficials,areespeciallyvisibleinKhagrachariDis- trictbuthavealsobeenreportedelsewhereinthehilltractsaswell(Hossainand Siddiqui2008;AinOShalishKendra2008).Therearemanyreportsofdispos- session,despitethegovernment’ssettingupalandcommission(pertreaty)to settleoutstandinglandclaims.Asof2008,notasinglelanddisputehasbeen resolvedbythecommission(UNPO2008b).Moreover,thegovernment’scre- ationofeco(ecological)parksandsocialforestation12 is also causing the evic- tionofindigenouspeople.AsregionalleaderJyotirindraBodhiprioLarma,alias ShantuLarma(chiefoftheCHTRegionalCouncilandcountersignatorytothe Accord),ManobendraNarayanLarma’sbrother,putitin2008:

Theindigenouspeopleareincreasinglyfallingvictimsoflandgrabbing.The rulers over the years remained indifferent to our demands for autonomy and constitutional recognition. They have never paid attention to the demands forenduringindigenouspeoples’rights,implementingtheCHTTreaty,and endingevictionoftheindigenouspeopleinthenameofcreatingecoparks and social forestation (The Daily StarJuly7,2008)

Finally,afifthimportantfactorthathascontributedtotheoutbreakofCHTcon- flict,anditssustenance,havebeentheinitiativesofsuccessivegovernmentsin Bangladeshtosolveaninherentlypoliticalandethnicproblemthroughmilitary means.Theproblemwasinitiallydealtwiththrougheconomicdevelopmentpro- grams; for example, the government formed the CHT Development Board in 1976. Yet, these development programs were run by the military and geared towardreinforcingitspowerinthearea.Asamatteroffact,alargenumberof militaryforceshavebeendeployedintheCHTregioninordertorestorepeace there. Moreover, the government used military forces to carry out different developmentprogramsthatweresupposedtobecarriedoutbytheciviladminis- tration.Theprograms,infact,amplifiedprejudice,annoyedtheCHTpeople,and increasedtheirpenury(Roy2000).ItisclaimedthatBangalisettlers,withthe helpofthearmy,veryoftengrabbedlandsbelongingtotheHillPeople.Those whoprotestedbecamevictimsofdifferenttypesofharassment,includingtorture. TheACHRinitsreportpublishedin2004pointedout: 148 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil Ataround11p.m.on3August2004,about50BangalisettlersfromKala- banyaofAimacharaUnion,ledbyUnionParishad(Council)memberTamir Ali, launched a brutal attack on Barun Kumar Chakma and his family members from Dhandachara village of Bhushanchara Union under Barkal ThanainRangamatihilldistrict.BarunKumarChakmawaskilledonthe spot.[His]wife,SubarnaChakma,andson,KampanChakma,werebrought toRangamatihospital,about50milesawayfromthevictims’villageon4 August 2004. Subarna Chakma succumbed to her injuries while Kampan ChakmawasreferredtotheChittagongMedicalCollegeHospital.

InApril2008,sevenJummacommunitieswereattackedbyhundredsofBangali settlers who set fire to over 500 houses, assaulted a number of Jumma, and looted their properties. The incident took place when the Jumma people were discussing how to protect themselves from a possible attack by the settlers. Despitethefactthatthearmyhadpreviouslyreassuredthemabouttheirsafety, theattackwascarriedoutinthepresenceofarmytroops(IntercontinentalCry 2008). The army’s ongoing presence has also resulted in serious human rights violations.AUnitedPeople’sDemocraticFront(UPDF)supporter,RinkuChakma, waskilledinmilitarycustodyinMatiranga,KhagracharionAugust23,2004.It wasallegedthathewasfirstbrutallytorturedbythearmedforcesinfullpublic view and then taken into custody, where he later succumbed to his injuries (ACHR2004).Thesamemonth,securityforcesarrestedfivemembersofUPDF allegedlyunderfalseaccusationsattheKhagracharipolicestation.13 The president and vice president of the Hill Students Council (Mithun Chakma and RupanChakma,respectively)andthepresidentoftheHillWatchHumanRights Forum (Sonali Chakma) were brutally beaten with sticks. The ACHR has asserted that such cases of arbitrary arrest and physical abuse of ordinary Jummasarecommonincidentsinthehilltracts(ACHR2004). Over the years, the Dhaka government’s sponsorship and relocation of BangalisettlershavealteredthedemographyoftheCHT.Aspreviouslystated, theJummawillsoonbecomeaminorityintheirownlandifcurrenttrendscon- tinue.Thisis,ofcourse,assumingthatthishasalreadynothappened.Theonce isolatedandprotectedCHT territoryhasnowbecomesusceptibleto influence from mainstream Bangali culture, thereby threatening the indigenous people’s culture and their ethnic identity. The Bangladeshi central state’s strategy in rela- tiontotheJummaintheCHTcanbesummarizedinthefollowingwords:

Theseincludemilitarizationofthewholeregion,swampingitwithBengali immigrants,placingtheJummasinclustervillagesundermilitarysurveil- lance and denying them access to the commons and forests to sustain their livelihood and life integrity, persistent human rights violations, including disappearances, repeated rape, vandalization and desecration of religious (especiallyBuddhist)sitesandshrines,destructionofvillagesandproperty, physical and mental abuse of individuals, repeated killings, especially Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 149 though not exclusively of known Jumma activists, leaders, professionals, andmonksandnuns.Theseactionstakentogetherwouldcertainlyconsti- tute genocide within the meaning of the 1948 U.N. Convention on Genocide. (Levene1999:344)

The 1997 CHT Peace Accord and its aftermath

Political changes facilitating signing of the 1997 Accord SuccessivegovernmentsinBangladeshhadtakenvariousinitiativestodealwith theconflictintheCHT,buttheirintentionsweregenerallyunclearandlacked seriouspoliticalcommitment.Before1997,nogovernmenthadtreatedtheCHT conflictasanationalissue;rather,itwaskeptawayfromthenationalpolitical agenda.Insteadofprofferingapoliticalsolution,mostgovernmentsviewedthe problemfromanationalsecuritystandpointandtriedtosolveitthroughmilitary intervention.This,inturn,sparkedevenmorediscontentamongtheindigenous people of the CHT. The excessive number of government security personnel deployed in the CHT made the military the most important governmental actor intheregion,resultinginthegovernment’spolicytowardtheCHTbeingeven moreproblematic.Forexample,governmentofficialsforbadetheextensionof mobilephoneandInternetcoveragetothethreehilldistrictsthatcomprisethe CHT.Thegovernmenthighlightedsecurityastheprimereasonforthisdecision, but human rights groups and local officials countered by arguing that these restrictions actually slowed economic and human development in the region, thus instigating continuing insurgency. TherehadbeenlittlecoverageordebateontheCHTconflictinBangladesh’s printornewsmediauntilatleast1997,largelybecausetheissuehadbeenprevi- ouslyconceptualizedbyrulingelitesasbeingasensitivesecuritymatter.Main- streamBangladeshisocietywas,infact,largelyunawareofthebrutalitiesand miseriessufferedbytheJumma.Asaresult,Bangladesh’smainpoliticalparties, the Awami League (AL) and Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), had little incentivetotrytosolvetheconflictthroughnon-militarymeans. Thisbegantochangeinthemid-1990s.First,anewALgovernmentcame into power in 1996 under the leadership of Sheikh Hasina, her first tenure as primeminister.Shewasgenerallyconsideredtobemoresincereaboutsolving theCHTproblemandsympathetictotheplightoftheJummathantheprevious BNPgovernmentunderBegumKhaledaZia.Second,andperhapsmoreimpor- tantly,theCHTconflictalsobeganattractingincreasedinternationalattentionin themid-1990s.Asaresult,SheikhHasina’snewgovernmentcameundermore intensepressurefromvariousinternationalorganizationsanddonoragenciesto reinvigoratethepeaceprocessintheCHTandresolvetheconflict.14 SheikhHasina’sALgovernmentsetupaspecialNationalCommitteeonthe CHTinOctober1996tohelpsolvethelong-lastingconflict.Thefirstmeeting betweenthetwelve-membercommitteeandthePCJSSwasheldinDecemberof 150 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil thatyear,followedbysubsequentmeetingsthrough2007.15Thesetalkseventu- allyculminatedinthesigningofapeaceaccordonDecember2,1997,between the National Committee and the PCJSS in the presence of Prime Minister Hasina. This agreement was popularly known as the Chittagong Hills Tracts PeaceAccordof1997. The major objectives of the 1997 Peace Accord included protection of the landrightsoftheindigenouspeople,revivaloftheirculturaluniqueness,rehabilitation of internally displaced people and refugees who had left the country, withdrawal of the military from the CHT (with the exception of permanent militaryestablishments),andself-governmentthroughregionalanddistrictcoun- cils(Paul2004).Thesigningofthisaccordwasanimportantachievementfor both the AL government and tribal representatives of the PCJSS. The accord greatlyenhancedSheikhHasina’simageinternationally,andshewasawarded the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization’s (UNESCO)PeacePrizein1999(Dictaan-Bang-oa2004). However, the accord was not supported by all sections of Jumma society. GroupswithinthePCJSS,includingitsinfluentialstudentwing,whichsubse- quentlyhelpedformtheUPDFonDecember26,1998,raisedastrongvoiceof opposition against the accord. The groups who formed the UPDF committed themselvestotherealizationofcompleteself-determinationfortheindigenous people of the CHT, arguing that the 1997 accord failed to address the funda- mental demands of the Jumma people (www.updfcht.org/about.html, accessed onJuly11,2008).ThePCJSSandUPDFhaveopposedeachothereversince, includingfratricidalkillingsandhumanrightsviolationsbybothgroups.

Non- implementation of the accord The initial euphoria around the accord aside, it has subsequently failed to be fully implemented over the past decade. According to UNPO (2008b),16 most provisions of the accord remain either unimplemented or partially implemented becauseofthelackofpoliticalcommitmentbythegovernment.Forexample, out of thirty-three responsibilities devolved to the newly created Hill District Council(HDC),onlytwelvehavebeenactuallytransferred.Importantfunctions suchaslawandorder,generaladministration,andlandmanagementhaveactu- allynotyetbeentransferred.Otherimportantcompetencies—suchastheforma- tionofalocalpoliceforceandaCHTRegionalCouncil(CHTRC)tomanage non-governmentalorganizationactivity,disastermanagement,reliefprograms, and general administration—are still managed by centrally appointed deputy commissionersknownaschiefdistrictexecutiveofficers. Theaccordhas,infact,failedtoensureevenminimumparticipationofindi- genouspeopleinthedecision-makingprocessofthelocaladministration,even though it promised to give them that role and to end continuing war in the region.Inaddition,thecontinuingpresenceofthearmyintheCHT,evenafter thesigningoftheaccord,hasmadetheHillPeopledistrustfuloftherealinten- tions of the government. Despite the accord’s provision agreeing to dismantle Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 151 temporarymilitarycamps,only152outof543suchcampshavebeenwithdrawn thusfar(UNPO2008b). TheCHTaccordhadactuallymandatedthecreationofaCHTRCandtheMin- istryofCHTaffairsbut,inpractice,ithasfailedtodelegateadequatepowerto thesebodiestoenforcetheaccord.TheprocessgotstuckwhentheBNPwonthe 2001nationalelectionsandtookoverpowerinthecenter.Becauseofinternational pressure,theBNPgovernmentdidnotrescindtheaccord,butratheradopteda“go slow”strategy.ItalsotriedtohoodwinkthePCJSSbyappointingachairmanfor theTaskForceforRehabilitationofReturneeRefugeesandextendingthetenure ofthelandcommissionbythreeyearsfrom2003.However,thistrickwasper- ceivedbytheHillPeoplewhoconsideredpartialimplementationoftheaccordto be useless. Instead, these moves have created a conflict environment where the PCJSSandUPDFconsidereachotherenemies(The Daily Star 2004). EventhePCJSS,whichhadoriginallysignedtheaccordonbehalfoftheindi- genous people, launched an agitation campaign demanding an end to the problem of new settlers, the withdrawal of the army from the region, and the implementation of the policy to use CHT mother tongues in primary education as guaranteed in the accord (The Daily Star 2004). The agitation especially startedafter2001whentheBNP-ledgovernmenttookoverstatepower,remain- ingalmostsilentregardingimplementationofthetreaty.Inmostcases,agitation waspeaceful;however,onmanyoccasionsthePCJSScameintoconfrontation with security forces. The process still continues. However, the intensity has diminishedsincethenewlyelectedALgovernmenthasshowedtheircommit- mentforfullimplementationoftheaccord.ThePCJSShasalsomadeseveral otherdemands:anindigenouspersonshouldbenamedfullministeroftheMin- istryofCHTAffairs,theCHTlandcommissionshouldbeempowered,theTask ForceforRehabilitationofReturneeRefugeesshouldbeactivated,acomplete voter’s list should be prepared for the permanent residents of CHT, elections should be held to the Regional Council and HDC, and an indigenous person shouldbeappointedasheadoftheCHTDevelopmentBoard. TheAL-ledgrandalliancegovernmentassumedpowerin2009throughthe 2008parliamentaryelectionandtookanumberofstepstofacilitatetheprocess ofimplementationoftheCHTaccordthatgotstuckduringtheBNP-ledgovern- ment(2001–06).ThefirstinitiativeoftheALgovernmentwasthereconstitution of the CHT Accord Implementation Committee under the chairmanship of the Deputy leader of Parliament, Sajeda Chowdhury (Panday and Jamil 2009; Panday 2011). However, nothing encouraging has happened yet, other than a fewmeetingsheldbythecommittee.Anothersteptakenbythegovernmentin August2009wasitsdecisiontowithdrawtemporaryarmycampsfromtheCHT region. This decision was taken in response to one of several unimplemented agreements of the 1997 CHT peace accord (Bashar 2011). As an outcome of the decisionthegovernmenthaswithdrawnsomethirty-fivemakeshiftarmycamps alongwithabrigadeinKaptaifromhills.However,therehasbeenvividdiscus- siononthisdecisionoftheALgovernmenttowithdrawarmycampsfromCHT region for the purpose of security. Another initiative of the government is the 152 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil reformationoftheCHTLandDisputeresolutionCommission(CHTDLRC)and CHT Refuge Affairs Taskforce. However, these initiatives of the government have satisfied neither the PCJSS nor the UPDF, and ethnic minorities in this region,sincetherearestillmanyunresolvedissuesthatrequireimmediateand sincere attention of the government. The CHT Peace Accord was actually very problematic from its inception becauseitresembledmoreofa“top-down”initiativeratherthana“bottom-up” one. A “top-down” policy is considered to be more appropriate when policy objectivesareclear,fewerchangesareinvolved,andwhenpolicymakerslargely agreeastotheprocessesinvolved.Thesituationchangescompletelywhenpolicy objectivesareambiguousandlikelytofail.Thislattertypeofsituationrequiresa more“bottom-up”approach.TheCHTPeaceAccord,becauseofitsuniqueand complexcharacter,actuallyrequiredsuchanapproach(JamilandPanday2008). Toexplain,theaccordprocesswaselitistanddrivenlargelybytheAL.First, the accord was a well kept secret in the initial stage of negotiations with the Shanti Bahini (Peace Force) and was denied any form of public scrutiny.17 Second, there was no room for judging arguments on various issues such as powersharing,divisionofresponsibilities,andtherolesofregionalcouncils.As aresult,thepeopleofBangladeshwerewithoutknowledgeofsuchanimportant policydecisionandindifferentwhenitwasmadepublic.Trustandlegitimacy, which are vital for building support around such an accord, were missing. However,themainoppositioncamefromtheBNPandBangalisettlersinthe CHTwhotriedtoblockimplementationoftheaccord.Moreover,thelocalgov- ernmentaladministrationintheCHT,whichismannedbycentralbureaucrats, wasalsoskepticalbecausetheaccordrequiredpowersharingwithnewlyformed regional councils. Giventheprolongedconflictandarmedinsurgencyintheregion,theaccord wasanecessaryandpath-breakinginitiativeonthepartoftheAL,butitsformu- lation and implementation were questionable. Sheikh Hasina was the driving forcebehindtheaccordandtookpersonalinterestinsigningitwiththeShanti Bahini. This gave her international recognition but she was criticized by the oppositionBNPathomeformastermindinga“plot”incollusionwiththeShanti Bahini. The BNP alleged that giving more autonomy to the CHT region was unconstitutional,callingtheagreementa“blackpact.”Becausetheaccordfailed toreceivemajorsupportfromoppositionpoliticalparties,itscontinuedimple- mentationwasdoubtfulwhenthegovernmentchangedin2001.Fissureswithin theJummacommunitybetweenthosewhosupportitandthosewhowanteven moreautonomy,ifnotcompleteself-determination,havealsomadeimplementa- tionoftheaccordevenmoreproblematic.

New emerging dynamics of the CHT conflict after the non- implemented accord Atpresent,twotypesofconflictsareongoingintheCHT.Oneisanintra-group conflictwithintheJummacommunitybetweenthosewhocontinuetosupport Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 153 fullimplementationofthe1997accordandthoseopposedtoitfromtheoutset, arguingthatitfailedtofulfilltheiraspirationsforfullautonomy.18 A second type ofarmedinsurgenceisoccurringbetweenthemilitantsintheindigenouscom- munityontheonehand,andsecurityforcepersonnelandBangalisettlergroups, on the other. Regarding the former, the PCJSS and UPDF remain mired in an intra- communalconflictthathaskilledmorethan500peopleandinjuredabout1,000 since December 1998. Kidnapping and extortion by local gangs are frequent: morethan1,000peoplehavebeenkidnappedinthepastelevenyears(The Daily Star2004).Thisintra-communalviolencehasoccurreddespitethefactthatboth UPDFactivistsandPCJSScadreshadbeenvictimsofatrocitiesbytheBangla- deshisecurityforces.Severalothersmallerindigenousgroupsalsofeelunrepre- sentedandresentthefactthatShantiBahiniisinchargeofimplementingthe peaceagreement.TheUPDFandothersmallerdissidentgroupsclaimthatthe police, with the support from the PCJSS, continue arbitrary arrests of their members.Foritspart,thePCJSSallegesthatthesedissidentgroupshavetar- getedtheirmembersforkidnappingandkilling(AmnestyInternational2000). TherefusalofthePCJSS—whichseekstobethesolerepresentativeoftheJum- mas—toeventalk with theUPDF hasfurthermore vitiatedany possibility for intra- communal peace. Nonetheless,mostindigenouspeopleblamethegovernmentforescalatingthe continuingintra-groupconflictintheCHTregion.Theybelievethatconflictper- sistsbecauseofnon-implementationofthe1997treatybythegovernment.For example, the current chairperson of the CHTRC and President of PCJSS J.B. Larmahasbeencriticalaboutthegovernment’spolicy,notingin2003:

[Although]morethanfiveyearshavepassedafterthesigningoftheAccord, most of the provisions, especially the main issues of the Accord, such as formationofaLandCommissionforsettlingthelanddisputes,rehabilita- tionofreturneeJummarefugeesandinternallydisplacedJummafamilies, withdrawaloftemporarycampsofsecurityforcesandmilitaryadministra- tion, preparing voter list only [from among] the permanent residents of CHT,effectiveenforcementofthethree[hilldistrictcouncils]andtheCHT RegionalCouncilAct,rehabilitationoftheBangalisettlersoutsideCHTetc. haveeither[been]leftunimplementedorpartiallyimplemented. (Larma 2003)

Manyothersalsocriticizetheprocessofimplementationoftheaccord,andcon- sidertheagreementadisappointmentbecauseitfailedtobringtotalpeacetothe region(Corpuzet al.2000).Manyofthesecriticsconsidertheagreementadis- appointmentbecauseitfailedtobringtotalpeace.Anothergroupofcriticscon- siderstheaccordaninitiativethatcametoolittleandtoolate(Samaddar1999). Evenbeforeayearhadpassedafterthesigningoftheaccord,aneminentCHT analyst,AmenaMohsin,viewedittobeinherentlyseededwithfutureinsecurity, discontent,inequality,andpolarization(Mohsin1998). 154 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil One effect of the current intra-indigenous violence has been that it draws attentionawayfromtheconflictbetweenindigenouspeoplesandBangalisettlers in the CHT—a conflict over political rights and natural resources. It also weakens the indigenous people in a number of ways. For example, since the intra-indigenousconflictislargelyconcentratedinChakma-inhabitedareas,itis mostlyordinaryChakmaswhoarethedirectvictimsoftheintra-communalviolence.Otherethnicgroupsarealsoaffectedbecauseoftherestrictionsplacedon movement, difficulties in operating trading and other businesses, and frequent extortion.IndigenousCHTsocietyisthereforebecomingincreasinglydivided, its economy is dwindling, and its social and human development (including health care and education) is stagnating partially as a result of this intra- communalviolence(Roy2000). ThesecondsourceofviolenceintheCHTistheconflictbetweenindigenous insurgentgroups(especiallytheUDPF)ononeside,andgovernmentsecurity forcesandBangalisettlers,ontheother.ThemilitaristicmobilizationofBangali settlershas,infact,addedincreasedcomplexitytosolvingtheCHTconflict.A movement called Somo Adikhar Andolon (SAA, Equal Rights Movement), organizedbyBengali-speakingsettlersafter2001,hascreatedfurtherdiscontent amongtheindigenouspeopleintheregion.Thesesettlersbelievetheaccordhas made them second-class citizens in the CHT region. The SSA movement has alsoopposedthePCJSSforsigningtheaccordandhascarriedoutseveralagita- tions demanding annulment of the 1997 accord. Quiteoften,armedconflicteruptsbetweenBangalisettlers(incollaboration withsegmentsofthecivilianadministrationandarmedforceswhoopposethe accord)andindigenousgroups.Itissuspectedthatsuchviolenceisdeliberately instigatedandsustainedbythesevestedofficialinterestsinordertofoilanyrein- vigoratedpeaceinitiative.Anylastingpeaceintheregionislikelytoputtheset- tlersinaweakerpositionbecausefullimplementationoftheaccord—suchas theestablishmentofalandcommission—wouldensuremorerightsandprivi- leges for the indigenous people. Violence also continues between Jumma insurgents and the government securityforces.Forexample,agunfighttookplacebetweenUPDFactivistsand thearmyatBadalchhariatdistrictheadquartersinRangamatiDistrictonMay 11, 2009.19 Government soldiers apparently began a raid to arrest suspected insurgents,andUPDFmembersrespondedbyopeningfireonthem.Thearmy firedback,killingtwoactivists.Soldiersalsorecoveredahugenumberofarms and ammunition (The Daily Star 2009). Such confrontations continue in the countrysideaswell.

Conclusion: toward the future in the CHT Apoliticaltreatycanbeconsideredafailureifitsintendedobjectivesarenot achieved. In the CHT region, the 1997 accord has failed to ensure stability, establish peace, and protect the culture and identity of the indigenous communities.Thisislargelybecauseofthe“top-down”processbywhichtheaccord Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 155 wasformulatedanditsnon-implementationduetotheerosionofpoliticalwill onthepartofthecentralstate.TheAL’sownpreferencesreignedsupremeover theargumentsandconcernsofotherstakeholders,especiallytheBNPandthe Bangali settlers in the CHT, when negotiating the accord. Nor did the accord witnessdirectparticipationofanyinternationalactors,eventhoughinternational donorsandhumanrightsorganizationswereimportantadvocatesofit.Asacon- sequence,theaccorddidnotgeneratewidespreadacceptanceandsupport,and ultimatelylostitsvigor.Yet,theaccordwasnotonlyapositiveattempttoestab- lishinglastingpeaceintheregion,butitcouldalsohavesetanexampleforcon- flictresolutionforSouthandSoutheastAsiaifithadsucceededinitsobjectives. ThegrievancesoftheindigenouspeopleoftheCHTcontinuetobemanifold— political,economic,andcultural.Suchasituationcallsforadoptingpoliciesthat areacceptabletoallstakeholders(Nagel2002). TheNorwegianmodelofSametinget(SámiParliament)mayprovideaviable example of how to initiate a long-lasting peace process in a conflict-prone region.20ThemainfunctionoftheSametingetistoupholdtherightsandprivi- legesoftheSámiminorityinNorway.Itisentrustedwiththepowerto“adju- dicateuponlanduseandinvestmentinagriculturalprojects,theestablishmentof new businesses and industrial concerns, environment protection and development. It also enables the Sámi people to protect and develop their language, culture,heritage,andsociallife”(JamilandPanday2008:485).Asaresult,the Sámipeoplehavetheirownconstitutionandaflag.TheautonomousSametinget hasenabledtheindigenousSámipeopletoliveinpeacefulcoexistencewiththe restofNorwegiansociety.Thishasbeenawin-winsituationforbothNorway andalsofortheSámipeople.Suchacomprehensiveandsystemicapproachto conflictameliorationmayalsobeapplicabletotheCHTcaseinBangladeshas well. TheCHTwasinasituationofstalematefrom2001–06undertheBNP-led government,whichopposedtheaccordfromtheoutset.However,thepolitical scenariochangedin2007whenanemergencycaretakergovernmenttookpower. Afewpositivetrendswereobservedduringthetenureofthiscaretakergovern- ment,includingthecreationofthreejudges’courtsinthethreedistrictscom- prising the CHT region and the decision to call a meeting of the CHT Affairs MinistryAdvisoryCommittee—thefirstsuchmeetingafterfiveyearsofsuspen- sionunderBNPrule(Mohaiemen2008).21However,implementationofthe1997 accordwasnotatoppriorityforthecaretakergovernment,whichinsistedthat itsmajortaskwastoholdgeneralelectionsattheendof2008andhandover powertoademocraticallyelectedgovernment.Theparliamentaryelectionheld inDecember2008completelyreshuffledthepoliticalscenarioandbroughtthe ALanditsalliesbacktopower.Asthechampionoftheaccord,theALgovern- mentholdsthekeytoitsimplementation.Infact,ithasformedanimplementa- tioncommitteeunderthechairmanshipofthedeputyleaderofParliament. AtthetimetheCHTpeaceaccordwassignedin1997,almostone-thirdof Bangladesh’s army (about 30,000 soldiers) (www.angelfire.com/ab/jumma/ resist/military.html,accessedNovember5,2009)wasdeployedintheregionto 156 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil contain the armed struggle, resulting in a heavy burden on the national exchequer.Asizablenumberofthesetroopsarestillstationedthere.Anyescala- tionoftheconflictmayboosttheirnumbersevenfurther,puttinganevenheavier burden on the country’s treasury. Armed conflict will also raise security con- cernsinIndiaandBurma.Forexample,Indiahaslonghadproblemswithseces- sionist movements in its eastern provinces, and Burma has numerous ethnic groupsopposingthemilitaryregime.Bothgovernmentsmayfeeluneasywith any escalation that might threaten peace and destabilize security in the CHT region of Bangladesh. Inordertocreateawin-winsituation,thepresentALgovernmentneedsto buildconsensusfortheaccord,implementitfully,andensurethattheinstitu- tionscreatedonbehalfoftheCHTregionandtheJummapeoplefunctionprop- erly.Asalludedtoearlier,theNorwegianmodeloftheSametingetprovidesone suchmodelofacomprehensivesettlement.Atminimum,thestatemustabandon itsrepressiveanddiscriminatorystrategies,infavorofpursuingapoliticalsolu- tion. Without these elements of a comprehensive solution, state legitimacy, regionalsecurity,andtrustbetweensettlersandindigenouspeopleintheCHT willremaindistant,andtheviolentconflictintheCHTislikelytoendurewell into the future.

Notes 1 ThischapterisaversionofapaperfirstpublishedinAsian Survey,©2009bythe RegentsoftheUniversityofCalifornia.ReprintedfromAsian Survey,Vol.49,No.6, pp.1052–1070,bypermissionoftheRegents. 2 The CHT, the only extensive hills in Bangladesh’s southeast, cover about 13,184 squarekilometers,approximatelyone-tenthofthecountry’stotalarea.Accordingto the Population Census of 2001, the total population of the CHT is around 1.35 million. Of these, indigenous people comprise around 700,000 and Bangali settlers around650,000(GovernmentofBangladesh2007) 3 These thirteen different indigenous communities include the Chakma, Marma, Pankho,Khumi,Lusai,Murong,Bonojog,Tanchanya,Khyang,Chak,Tripura,Mro, andRyang(Uddin2006). 4 “Bangla”-speakingpeoplearecalled“Bangalis.”WehavewrittentheBengaliword “Bangla”inEnglishform.By“Bangali”werefertothepeopleofBangladeshwho speakintheBengalilanguage.However,therearetwostreamsofpeoplewhousedto recognizethemselvesaseither“Bangali”or“Bangladeshi.”Thisisanissuethathasa political contradiction also. The Awami League and its supporters recognize them- selvesas“Bangali,”whiletheBangladeshNationalistPartyanditssupportersrecog- nizethemselvesas“Bangladeshi.”However,themeaningisthesame. 5 Morethan90percentoftheBangladeshipopulationisMuslim,withabout9percent Hindus.However,amajorityoftheethnicminoritiesareBuddhist.Thus,theydiffer from Bangalis in terms of religious beliefs. Ethnic minorities also have their own languages. 6 The CHT Regulation of 1900 divided the hill tracts into three “revenue circles,” which include the Chakma, Mong, and Bohmang. Headed by a rajah (king), each circlewascomprisedofrepresentativesfromalltribes(Gain2000). 7 Before1971,thePakistangovernmentpermittedmigrationofnon-tribalsintothehill tractsandintroducedthesystemoftransferoflandownershipandotherresourcesto Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 157 non-tribalpeoplethroughamendmenttoRegulation1oftheCHTRegulationof1900 (Ramasubramanian2005). 8 This disastrous project was funded by the United States, commissioned in 1961 to helpindustrializeandelectrifytheregion. 9 TotalareaoftheChittagongHillTractsisabout13,295squarekilometers,whichis approximatelyone-tenthofthetotalareaof Bangladesh.WithintheCHTterritory, only545squarekilometersistrulycultivableland,whiletherestishills. 10 ManobendraNarayanLarmawastheleaderofthemajorityoftheCHTpeople.Adis- sident faction assassinated him in 1983. 11 The goal of PCJSS was to safeguard the rights of the Hill People and secure their right to autonomy. 12 Socialforestationreferstoplantingtreesinordertoprotecttheenvironmentfromthe negative impact of deforestation under government initiatives. 13 ThesefivememberswereJotishChakma,SadhanMoniChakma,RosomoyChakma, BorkulChakma,andBhubonMoniChakma. 14 TalkstosolvetheCHTproblemhadactuallystartedintheearly1980s,butnoneof theseinitiativeshadbroughtanysignificantbreakthroughs. 15 ThetwelvememberNationalCommitteeontheChittagongHillTractswasheadedby Abul Hasnat Abdullah, the then Chief Whip of the Parliament. The committee membersweremembersofParliamentbelongingtotheAL(partyinpower),BNP and Jatio Party (parties in opposition), retired government officials, and renowned socialworkers. 16 Initiatedin1990inTartu,Estonia,andformedintheHagueinFebruary11,1991, UNPOhasestablisheditselfasademocraticinternationalorganizationwhosemain objectivesaretoeducategroupsinwhatchannelstousetomaketheirvoicesheard, and to help defuse tensions so that frustrated groups do not turn to violence to gain attention for their demands. Its members are indigenous peoples, occupied nations, minorities,andindependentstatesorterritorieslackingrepresentationinternationally. 17 TheShantiBahini,formedin1972,wasthenameofthemilitarywingofthePCJSS. ShantiBahini,whosemainobjectivewastopreservetherightsofthetribalpeoplein southeastern Bangladesh, fought for many years against the central government. It abandoned militancy following the peace treaty signed by the government and the PCJSSonDecember2,1997. 18 ThesegroupsincludeUDPF,PahariChattraParishad(PCP,orHillStudentsCouncil), Pahari Gano Parishad (PGP, or Hill Peoples Council), and Hill Women Federation (HWF). 19 Sub-districtsituatedatthedistrictheadquarters. 20 TheSámiareindigenouspeoplewhoinhabitmainlythenorthernregionofScandina- via. In Norway, their conflict with the mainstream Norwegian populace intensified whenadamwasconstructedontheAlta-KautekeinoRiverinthelate1970s,even though the decision to build the dam was made in the early 1960s. This situation resemblesthebuildingoftheKaptaiDamintheCHTregion.Boththesesituations ledtomassiveprotests.However,theapproachtosolvingtheseconflictsdiffered.In Norway,theSámipeopleweregivenpoliticalautonomythroughtheestablishmentof Sametinget,whichallowsthemdirectelection.Thefirstsuchelectiontookplacein 1989. For details on the Sametinget, see www.samediggi.no/artikkel.aspx?AId=8 84&back=1&MId1=270,accessedonJuly13,2008. 21 Thegovernment’sdecisiontosetupthethree-judgecourtwasafollow-upactivityof the High Court’s order (given on February 24, 2008) to set up civil and criminal courts in the three hill districts of Rangamati, Khagrachhari, and Bandarban. The importanceofsettingupthesecourtswasimmensebecauseCHTresidentshadbeen deprivedoftheirequalrightstolawandjusticeintheabsenceofcivilandcriminal courtsinthethreedistricts.Intheverdict,thecourtalsomentionedsucharealization. 158 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil References AinO.ShalishKendra(2008)BangladeshLegalAidandHumanRightsOrganisation, www.askbd.org/ask. Aminuzzaman,SalahuddinM.andA.H.MonjurulKabir(2005)Role of Parliament in Conflict Resolution: A Critical Review of the Chittagong Hill Tract (CHT) Peace Accord in Bangladesh,WorkingPaperNo.2,TheRoleofParliamentinConflictand PostConflictAsia,UnitedNationsDevelopmentProgramme(UNDP),RegionalCentre inBangkok,Thailand. AmnestyInternational(2000)Bangladesh:HumanRightsintheChittagongHillTracts, February, http://asiapacific.amnesty.org/library/Index/ENGASA130012000?open&of= ENG-BGD,accessedMay12,2009. ACHR (Asian Center for Human Rights) (2004) The Ravaged Hills of Bangladesh, ACHR Review, Index: Review/35/2004, www.achrweb.org/Review/2004/35-04:html, accessedJuly5,2008. BangladeshWatchdog(2008)FreshViolenceinCHT:IndigenousVillagesAttacked,April 25, http://bangladeshwatchdog.blogspot.com/2008/04/fresh-violence-in-cht-indigenous. html,accessedJanuary17,2009. Bashar,Iftekharul(2011)Bangladesh’sForgottenCrisis:Land,Ethnicity,andViolencein ChittagongHillTracts,Counter Terrorist Trends and Analysis (International Centre for Political Violence and Terrorism Research, S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Nanyang Techonology University, Singapore), Vol. 3(4): 1–5, www.hpu.edu/ CHSS/History/PapersCommentariesStudies/CTTA-April11.pdf,accessedJune14,2012. Brauns,C.D.andL.G.Loffer(eds)(1990)Mru: Hill People on the Border of Bangla- desh,Boston:Birkhauser. Chakraborty,Eshani(2004)UnderstandingWomen’sMobilizationintheChittagongHill TractsStruggle:TheCaseofMahilaSamiti,paperpresentedin15thBiennialConfer- enceoftheAsianStudiesAssociationofAustralia,Canberra,June29toJuly2. Corpuz, Victoria Tauli et al. (eds) (2000) The Chittagong Hill Tracts: The Road to a Lasting Peace,BaguioCity,Philippines:TebtebbaFoundation. Dictaan-Bang-oa,Eleanor(2004)In Search for Peace in the Chittagong Hill Tracts of Bangladesh,www.tebtebba.org/about_us/publications/special/beyond/BeyondText.pdf, accessedJuly10,2008. Gain,P.(ed.)(2000)The Chittagong Hill Tracts: Life and Nature at Risk,Dhaka:Society forEnvironmentandHumanDevelopment(SEHD). Galdu Resource Center for the Rights of Indigenous People (2008) Bangladesh: Indi- genousPeopleStillFaceDiscriminationandEvictionfromTheirLand,www.galdu. org/web/index.php?odas=2881&giella1=eng,accessedJanuary17,2009. Government of Bangladesh (1972) Parliamentary Debates, October 31, 1972, p. 452, Dhaka. GovernmentofBangladesh(2007),MinistryofChittagongHillTracts,www.mochta.gov. bd/resources/Publication/2007-03-14_1173863834barshik_protibedon_2004-2005. pdftnational,accessedJanuary15,2009. Hossain,SaraandDinaM.Siddiqui(2008)HumanRightsinBangladesh,2007,inAinO ShalishKendra(alocalNGOprovidinglegalandjudicialhelp),Dhaka,2008. Huq,M.Mufazzalul(2000)Government Institutions and Underdevelopment: A Study of the Tribal Peoples of Chittagong Hill Tracts,Dhaka:CenterforSocialStudies. Hussain,SyedAnwar(1999)War and Peace in the Chittagong Hill Tracts: Retrospect and Prospect,Dhaka:AgameePrakashani. Conflict in the Chittagong Hill Tracts 159 IntercontinentalCry(2008)SettlersAttackJummaintheChittagongHillTracts,April25, http://intercontinentalcry.org/settlers-attack-jumma-in-the-chittagong-hill-tracts,accessed April6,2008. Jamil,IshtiaqandPranabKumarPanday(2008)TheElusivePeaceAccordintheChit- tagongHillTractsofBangladeshandthePlightoftheIndigenousPeople,Common- wealth and Comparative Politics,Vol.46(4):464–489. Larma,JyotirindraBodhipriyo(2003)TheCHTandItsSolution,paperpresentedatthe Regional Training Program to Enhance the Conflict Prevention and Peace-Building CapacitiesofIndigenousPeoples,representativesoftheAsia-Pacific,organizedbythe U.N. Institute for Training and Research (UNITAR) at Chiang Mai, Thailand, April 7–12,2003. Levene,Mark(1999)TheChittagongHillTracts:ACaseStudyinthePoliticalEconomy of“Creeping”Genocide,Third World Quarterly,Vol.20(2):339–369. Mohaiemen, Naeem (2008) Chittagong Hill Tracts and the Missing Pahari Vote, The Daily Star,January12. Mohsin,Amena(1998)ChittagongHillTractsPeaceAccord:LookingAhead,Journal of Social Studies(UniversityofDhaka),August–October1998:104–117. Mohsin,Amena(2000)StateHegemony,inP.Gain,(ed.),The Chittagong Hill Tracts: Life and Nature at Risk,Dhaka:SocietyforEnvironmentalandHumanDevelopment (SEHD). Mohsin,Amena(2003)The Chittagong Hill Tracts, Bangladesh: On the Difficult Road to Peace,London:LynneRienner. Nagel,S.(2002)Handbook of Public Policy Evaluation,ThousandOaks,CA:Sage. Panday, Pranab Kumar (2011) CHT Conflict and the Poverty Trap, The Independent (OpenEditorial),March18,2011. Panday,PranabKumarandIshtiaqJamil(2009)AgoniesofIndigenousPeople,The Daily Star(OpenEditorial),August3,2009. Paul,S.Chhakchhuak(2004)Chittagong Hill Tracts: Stating and Resolving the Issues within the Mountains,Dhaka:AmericanInternationalSchool/Dhaka,SeniorProject. Ramasubramanian,R.(2005)Elusive Peace in the Chittagong Hill Tracts: A Background, SouthAsiaAnalysisGroup,No.1540,www.saag.org/papers16/paper1540.html,accessed July8,2008. Roy, R. C. K. (2000) Land Rights of the Indigenous Peoples of the Chittagong Hill Tracts,Copenhagen:InternationalWorkGroupforIndigenousAffairs(IWGIA). Samaddar,Ranabir(1999)Those Accords: A Bunch of Documents,SouthAsiaForumfor HumanRights(SAFHR),PaperSeriesNo.4,Kathmandu. Singh,Raajen(1996)TheChittagongHillTractsinBangladesh,inC.NicholasandR. Singh(eds),Indigenous Peoples of Asia: Many Peoples, One Struggle,Bangkok:Asia IndigenousPeoplesPact. Talukder,Ushatan(2005)ChittagongHillTractsIssueandPost-AccordSituation,paper presentedattheInternationalConferenceonCivilSociety,HumanRights,andMinor- itiesinBangladesh,organizedbyCampaignAgainstAtrocitiesonMinoritiesinBang- ladesh (CAAMB), in association with Bangladesh Hindu Buddhist Christian Unity Council(BHBCUC,InternationalChapters),Kolkata,January22–23,2005. The Daily Star(2004)Dhaka,Vol.5:186,frontpage,December1. The Daily Star (2008)Dhaka,July7. The Daily Star(2009)Dhaka,May,12. The News Today (2011) www.newstoday.com.bd/?option=details&news_id=45976& date=2011-12-03,accessedJune14,2012 160 P.K. Panday and I. Jamil Uddin, M. K. (2006) Rights of indigenous people and minority issues in Bangladesh, http://ipra2006.com/papers/IPRC/RightsofIndigenousPeopleandMinorityIssues- Bangladesh.doc,accessedJuly5,2008. UNPO (Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization) (2008a) Chittagong Hill Tracts:SpotlightonHumanRights,March13,www.unpo.org/content/view/7731/236, accessedFebruary22,2009. UNPO (Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization) (2008b) Chittagong Hill Tracts,submissiontotheU.N.OfficeoftheHighCommissionerforHumanRights, Universal Periodic Review: Bangladesh, April, www.upr-info.org/IMG/pdf/UNPO_ BGD_UPR_S4_2009_UnrepresentedNationsandPeoplesOrganization_upr.pdf, accessed January17,2009. 9 The Naxalites of India, Maoists of Nepal and Taliban of Pakistan Ideological insurgencies in South Asia

Vasundhara Sirnate

Introduction In October 2004, the government of the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh was scheduled to hold talks with the region’s Maoist leadership. Hasty commentators believed that the Maoists were now attenuating their ideological stance, and that negotiations with the Indian government could be read as a signal that counterinsurgency campaigns against the Maoist camps had exhausted their organisational capacities. A few hours before the talks were scheduled to occur a curious statement was made public. Akkiraju Haragopal of the CPI (Maoist) State Committee said that the party would continue the ‘protracted people’s war’ and the talks would help in taking the movement forward. Three months later the Maoists had walked out of the negotiations, having cleverly used the cessation of counterinsurgency campaigns against them as a period of regrouping, recruiting, moving men and materials around and figuring out changes in organisation and leadership. For the Maoists, as P.V. Ramana writes, ‘the talks were and are a “tactic” and “war by other means” ’.1 Political commentators and the Andhra Pradesh government were both equally surprised when the Maoists not only rejected the negotiations, but also merged two of the largest Maoist groups – the People’s War Group and the Maoist Communist Centre – and formed one large umbrella Maoist organisation called the Commu- nist Party of India (Maoist). The organisational capacity of the Indian Maoists had just doubled. Fighting insurgencies is difficult and costs an insurgent group much in terms of resources and organisational capacity. Many insurgencies weaken over time if the group no longer gets a payoff from engaging in conflict, the expected payoff at the end of the conflict is no longer attractive or if the counterinsurgency campaign launched by the state has exhausted the resources and decimated the leadership and organisation of the insurgent group. Therefore a political settlement, which offers a share of political power amongst other clauses, is often an attractive option for an insurgent group. So why did the Indian Maoists reject negotiations which may have ended with a cessation of hostilities and a power-sharing agreement with the Indian state? We can agree that their organisational strength and capacity combined 162 V. Sirnate with a ready access to resources through various measures may have given them enough confidence to keep the war continuing for an extended period of time. However, the negotiations also demonstrated that their commitment to ideology was strong and non- negotiable. The negotiations allowed them to buy time to put their organisational affairs in order and escape state violence for a short period of time. However, the Maoists faced a dilemma. Negotiation with the state was not an option given the constraints placed by their ideology. If the Maoist leadership were to accept such a settlement, they would be seen as compromising on their ideology and would have lost many local supporters who would see them as reneging on their political promises. This chapter deals with the link between ideology and political strategy of insurgent groups. Why do insurgent groups spend considerable resources on organising and deploying their ideologies, especially when these ideologies can place severe constraints on the tactical and political functioning of the insurgent group? I argue that insurgent group ideology helps in ‘branding and banding’, i.e. an insurgent group is able to differentiate from other similar formations through its ideology (branding) and, on the strength of its ideological commitment, the group is able to generate local legitimacy and attract recruits (banding). For branding and banding to occur, ideology must be deployed. I look at strategies of ideological deployment used by the Maoists in India and Nepal and the Taliban in Pakistan. Combined with such strategies of deployment are strategies for recruitment of cadres. Ideology impels a group onto certain tactical and strategic paths, ranging from localised terrorism to total war against the state. In other words, it can affect the manner in which the insurgent group acts and the manner in which it fights the state. Depending on the flexibility of their ideology, insurgent groups also decide whether to negotiate with the state or refrain from doing so.

The role of ideology Political science has had a tenuous relationship with ideology. Following the positivist turn in political science, variables like ideology were deemed to be ambiguous and immeasurable and, by extension, insufficient in explaining social and political outcomes. However, it was still difficult to deny that ideology played a key role in identity formation, group cohesion, national revolutions and in the sustenance of the Cold War. Therefore, ideology often came in as a resid- ual variable when other explanatory variables seemed lacking in their ability to explain an event under discussion.2 Three points must be kept in mind while moving forward with this analysis. First, in a conflict region, where there is typically grave uncertainty, threats to human security and massive military presence, the dissemination of ideology is understood by the state as sedition and therefore dangerous for an insurgent group. This often prompts insurgent groups to indulge in unique tactics to spread their ideology, which are routinely hidden from the state’s gaze. Second, because of the conditions described above, recipients of insurgent ideologies have huge Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 163 disincentives to either imbibe or participate in the spread of insurgent ideology. Third, ideology must be distinguished from demands made by an insurgent group. Demands tend to be political in nature – asking for secession, autonomy, more rights, more liberties, or the overthrow of the system. Ideology, on the other hand, is the discourse in which these demands are embedded and through which these demands are presented to the state and the public at large. There- fore, asking for a separate homeland is not ideology. But asking for a separate homeland in the name of a certain deity, or to launch a protracted war on the basic principles of Marxism, displays ideology at work. Ideology helps anchor and justify a political demand. South Asia gives us a range of cases from which to pick ideological and non- ideological insurgent groups. The region is currently playing host to a number of local insurrections. India has the Maoist/Naxalite rebellion modelled on the Peo- ple’s Struggle launched by Chairman Mao in China in 1949. The Maoists in Nepal launched a similar People’s War between 1996 and 2006 and are currently involved in forging a power sharing alliance with the other major Nepali political parties (Pandey, 2010). The Pakistani Taliban has an ideology that is vastly different from the Maoists. It rests on a particular interpretation of Sunni Islam influenced by the Deobandi School. While the Maoists in Nepal were conceived of as an anti- royalist, anti- state entity, the Indian Naxals have adapted their ideology to fit and reflect local cleavages in the states where they operate (Bhatia, 2005). The Taliban in Paki- stan is currently a hydra- headed entity, with several splinter factions, including a tribal Taliban, an Afghan Taliban and other non- tribal outfits. What unites these disparate ideological insurgent groups is a common focus on bringing down the central state, while fighting countryside battles.

Insurgent ideology, recruitment and political strategy In this section I will look at the impact of insurgent ideology on relations between the insurgent group and the individual (recruitment and local support), and second, between the group and the state (political strategy and forms of violence used). Insurgent groups seldom succeed without local support. Local populations provide resources, intelligence, food, shelter, communication services, etc., for insurgent groups. An insurgent group that is not somehow embedded in the local population will often find itself driven underground in a short period of time. This often forces the group to resort to extreme violence against civilians since the group can no longer distinguish supporters from ‘traitors’. How and why does insurgent ideology succeed in attracting recruits for the group and in creating a supportive local population? Most theories can be fit into two broad theoretical claims. First, it is argued that forms of political ideology are successfully deployed because of painstaking organisational work, imagina- tive political strategies to spread information and saturate the public sphere with a particular ideological discourse (Jaffrelot, 1998; Katzenstein et al., 1997). 164 V. Sirnate Insurgent groups in South Asia use folk literature, song, dance and theatre combined with a reliance on subtle coercion and indoctrination to recruit people. Like any political organisation or outfit, insurgent groups often have propaganda or press (media) units, usually made up of a few individuals, trusted with the task of spreading their agenda as widely as possible, while keeping the activities of the group hidden from the state. A second camp that tries to analyse the role of ideology and its deployment in insurgent movements takes recourse to more psychological literature and asks how politically non- radical people can be ‘turned’ into militants or terrorists or insurgents. What is it that ideology accomplishes that allows for this shift of consciousness to happen? Ethnic attachments are often forged in a period of ethnic conflict. Volkan, for instance, contends that ‘ethnic attachments’ can influence people into working and acting against another group of people in order to protect and preserve a ‘we- ness’ or a sense of self, in opposition to a carefully constructed ‘other’. When a group comes into competition with another group, and under the spell of a charismatic leader who has a militant ideology to disperse, groups will often act in ‘primitive, irrational’ ways (Volkan and Sinclair, 1997). The jury is out on whether one can popularly suggest that non- party forms of political action that often involve violence perpetrated by an entire group or an insurgent outfit that stems from a host social group, are in fact ‘primitive’ or ‘irrational’. In contrast to Volkan, scholars of South Asian politics suggest that violence is often a non-party political act and is far from ‘primitive’ or ‘irrational’. These scholars who have spent considerable energy in explaining why communal violence occurs in India have often talked of the process of ‘othering’, i.e. the systematic dehumanisation of a particular community, identified as an enemy on which the woes of a majority community can be blamed (Hansen, 1999). Other works that theorise about the same issue argue differently that the use of ‘organized riot machines’ that work towards group polarisation (not fragmentation) and orchestrate communal killing (Brass, 2005) are responsible for violence, or that weak social ties between groups cause communal killing (Var- shney, 2003), and that electoral incentives can explain communal violence, but that the number of deaths is proportional to the presence of the police (Wilkin- son, 2006). Either way these interesting, case-based theories do not look for ‘irrationality’ in the actions of the perpetrators of violence, but argue that a combination of material and psychological incentives mixed with structural factors can explain the occurrence of communal violence. These works, however, focus less on individual motivation in right-wing movements in India, i.e. they do not explain how and why a middle- class Hindu youth is convinced to commit murder. This is where Volkan’s work provides an intervention. Under periods of community stress (like conflict periods), groups often experience a ‘regressive collective morality’ that is prompted by a fear of punishment by the enemy. In attempts to limit group anxiety, killing the ‘enemy’ is often seen as a justified course of action. Often to maintain attachments to other individuals or a larger collective, a particular individual may surrender Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 165 himself to a collective emotional impulse (suggestibility), which may or may not resonate with what that individual already believes (Volkan and Sinclair, 1997). The manner in which insurgent groups relate to individuals who are potential recruits is different from the manner in which they relate to the state. The first relationship is based on generating an emotional appeal specifically designed to garner legitimacy for the group. On the other hand, the insurgent group’s relationship to the state is based more on political opportunity, bargaining designed to bring the state to accept political demands of the group. In the cases that I discuss next, I will illustrate the deployment of ideology in India and Nepal by their respective Maoist movements and the Pakistani Taliban and will also demonstrate that ideology affects the forms of political negotiation that can emerge between an insurgent group and the state.

The Indian Naxalites: an ongoing protracted people’s war The Maoists or Naxalites in India owe their origins to an encounter between state forces and local communists in the village of Naxalbari in West Bengal in 1967. However, between the early 1970s and early 1990s, for about twenty years there was a lull in Naxalite activity. Some observers have noted that following the implementation of neoliberal economic reforms the Naxals have raised the banner of revolt once more (Roy, 2011). In the central Indian state of Chhattis- garh where, it is agreed, the fighting between the Indian paramilitary forces and the Naxals is most intense, the Naxalite cause is centred on the cessation of mining activity and the securing of tribal forest lands against economic incursions by mining companies. The Naxals have been known to operate in the forested districts of South Chhattisgarh (Dantewada and Bastar) as early as 1981. The basis of their recruitment of tribes, specifically the Gond, Mariah and Abujmariah tribals, rested on exploitation of entire tribes by the forest department officials. The forests of Chhattisgarh yield tendu leaves needed for making beedis (local small cigarettes with tobacco rolled in the leaf ). Beedi makers often called upon tribal people to collect tendu leaves and sell them at cheap prices. Once the forests became ‘protected’ by law, the tribes were seen as aliens in the very forests that they had lived in for centuries. They now needed permissions, in the absence of which forest officials would ask for bribes. Shortly after the Naxals entered the region in the early 1980s, they began taking over the tendu leaf contraction business on behalf of the tribals of Chhattisgarh.3 The Naxals of Chhattisgarh initially came from the neighbouring state of Andhra Pradesh, where they were known as the Peoples’ War Group (PWG). Comrade Ganapathi, an Andhra Pradesh non- tribal native, and leader of the PWG, is often credited with spreading Naxalism in Chhattisgarh. It is estimated that Naxals have a presence in about 220 districts in India. Currently, nine out of sixteen Chhattisgarhi districts have Naxalite presence with the southernmost districts of Dantewada, Bastar and Kanker registering maximum Naxal activity. Chhattisgarh is also the hotbed of much private mining activity, which serves as 166 V. Sirnate a source of extortion-based rent for the Naxals. The Naxals in Chhattisgarh have been able to seize weapons from the state forces through repeated and incessant ambushes, raiding of ammunitions dumps and armouries. Much of the explosives used by the Naxals to make improvised explosive devices (IEDs) have been traced to missing explosives from mines, like Bailadila (Miklian and Carney, 2010). While it has been alleged that the Indian Naxals get much weapons support from China, actual evidence for this seems to be weak.4 The elements of Maoist and Naxal ideology in both Nepal and India are centred on a dismantling of the state apparatus and its replacement with an indigenous government. India has had a long history of left-wing movements and India’s communist movement has several divisions and splits. As early as 1964, the Communist Party of India, the main left- wing political formation, was split over the issue of contesting elections and backing China (with whom India had fought a war in 1962). One faction maintained that participating in electoral politics was tantamount to betraying the cause of the people, and that a non- electoral left- wing struggle was necessary. This faction turned into the Communist Party of India, Marxist- Leninist (CPI(M- L)), while the other faction turned into the Communist Party of India, Marxist (CPI(M)). In West Bengal in the 1960s the CPI(M- L) was responsible for organising tribal villagers against local state actors. The Naxalbari incident in 1967, where a tribal communist recruit killed Sonam Wangdi, a local state official, provoked a severe state response. The Assam Frontier Rifles gunned down eleven people in Naxalbari village the following day, including seven women and two children. The state’s retaliation was viewed as excessive and what followed in West Bengal were months of protracted armed struggle led by Charu Majumdar and Kanu Sanyal. Naxal became a South Asian buzzword to mean ‘communist rebel’, but the movement lost steam by the early 1970s, primarily after the two key leaders Charu Majumdar and Kanu Sanyal were captured. However, the seeds of the ideology had spread to Andhra Pradesh where peasants were involved in similar land struggles against the former feudal classes in Telangana region. In 1980 the People’s War Group (PWG), an armed communist group, was well established in many districts of Andhra Pradesh and was acquiring country-made weapons and modified Claymore mines. In 1980 the People’s War Group in Andhra Pradesh that over time even began dispensing justice locally through ‘People’s Courts’, adopted the model of ‘complete oblit- eration of the class enemy’. The PWG leadership was led by Kondapalli Seethar- amiah and by 1981 had acquired a presence in the southern parts of Madhya Pradesh (now Chhattisgarh). The aim was simple – to organise and arm local tribals in the dense forests of Chhattisgarh that were being exploited by forest officials. At about the same time the Maoist Communist Centre (MCC), composed of trade union activists and defectors from the CPI(M- L) had made inroads in Chhattisgarh via their bases in the neighbouring state of Bihar. With two similar minded organisations working in the same piece of territory, a merger seemed likely. In 2004 the PWG and MCC merged in a historic pact where it was decided that the resources of both groups would be used in an Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 167 Indian version of the People’s War. The new group was called the CPI (Maoist) with Muppala Lakshman Rao, or Comrade Ganapathi as the General Secretary. The CPI (Maoist) talked of total ‘revolution’ and admitted to working in close collaboration with the Nepali Maoists. Unlike Nepal, royal titles had already been abolished in 1947 and by 1971 Indira Gandhi got rid of the former royals’ privy purses. The CPI (Maoist) had a new class enemy – the forces of imperialism, feudalism and bureaucratic capitalism facilitated by the bourgeois Indian state. Like the Nepali Maoists the Indian Naxals wanted ‘new’ democracy. When the two outfits merged a joint declaration was issued in October 2004, which stated that:

the immediate aim and programme of the Maoist party is to carry on and complete the already ongoing and advancing New Democratic Revolution in India as a part of the world proletarian revolution, by overthrowing the semi- colonial, semi- feudal system under the neo- colonial form of indirect rule, exploitation and control. This revolution will be carried out and completed through armed agrarian revolutionary war, i.e., protracted people’s war with the armed seizure of power remaining as its central and principal task, encircling the cities from the countryside and thereby finally capturing them. Hence the countryside as well as the Protracted People’s War will remain as the ‘centre of gravity’ of the party’s work, while urban work will be complimentary to it.

The CPI (Maoist) has in its ideological literature five key texts: Hold High the Bright Red Banner of Marxism- Leninism-Maoism, the Party Programme, Strategy and Tactics of the Indian Revolution, the Political Resolution on the International and Domestic Situation and the Party Constitution. The texts each deal with issues such as scientific socialism, the subservient nature of the Indian political and economic elites to western imperialism. They also recognise the different ‘nationality struggles’ in India, accusing the Indian state of chaining together disparate nationalities under an umbrella national identity that does not significantly reflect or respect indigenous nationalisms. Of most strategic interest (especially for any counterinsurgency personnel) is the text Strategy and Tactics of the Indian Revolution. This text argues for the demolition of the semi- feudal and semi- colonial nature of Indian society and the establishment of a new democracy through a two- stage war – the first mobilisation of the masses in the countryside and the second transition to a mobile and tactical warfare form aimed at severe damage to the state in all its avatars.5 The CPI (Maoist) organisational structure consists of a Central Committee, Regional Bureaus, Zonal or State Committees, District or Division Committees and Squad Area Committees. The local forest fighting units are called dalams. The merger of the two groups in India has had serious implications for the manner in which India is framing its anti- Maoist, counterinsurgency strategy. The firepower capacity of the new group has increased, as has their battle- worthiness. The South Asia Terrorism Portal (www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/ india/maoist/terrorist_outfits/PWG.htm) reports: 168 V. Sirnate The PWG is estimated to have 3500 armed cadres and around 3000 firearms, including a large number of rifles of AK variety, light machine guns, self- loading rifles, carbines, .303s, grenades, revolvers, pistols, and land- mines technologies. The PWG also has a technical squad, which manufac- tures 12-bore guns and its ammunitions, repairs all kinds of weapons and assembles grenades. The MCC is estimated to have cadre strength of between 3000–3500, and around 2500 firearms of similar varieties.

The Naxalites use tactics of recruitment that are embedded in and resonate with local cultural contexts. Folk songs have been rewritten with new lyrics that valorise class warfare and its necessity. Satnam, a Punjabi writer, who lived with the Naxals of Chhattisgarh for a short period of time, describes the use of folk dance and theatre in local mobilisation and in keeping the Naxal recruits motivated in the dalams (mobile fighting units) (Satnam, 2010). The songs and skits usually take place once the dalam has cooked and eaten their evening meal. Mornings are devoted to planning and moving camp and canvassing local villages. Alpa Shah describes the situation in Jharkhand where Naxals organise rallies. She reports that the time delays involved make the attendees impatient, who often complain of the theatrics involved in such mobilisation (Shah, 2010). Putting up posters on behalf of the Indian Naxals often happens in local bazaars but also in elite university campuses in the hopes of drawing elite allies. These strategies often make use of familial and kinship ties. Alpa Shah talks about the ‘relations of intimacy’ that are developed between villagers and the Naxals in India. Here the Naxal appears as a big brother, an uncle, a relative to whom a villager cannot deny shelter or food. Not only does the Naxal get supplies and shelter by presenting himself as part of the tribe, as a kin member; he also talks to the younger men about fighting in the forests. This fighter, often a skilled recruiter, displays his charisma to young men who already have enough troubles of their own. The Naxal will then talk at length about class warfare, exploitation and the deprivation of the villagers, and offer a better alternative system with justice, rules and a condition of plenty. The life of the guerrilla suddenly appears romantic, empowering and is an escape from the quotidian living and exploitation by the state. There is a fine line in Shah’s work between the forging of a ‘relation of intimacy’ and the coercion it veils, where it is hard to say no to a ‘relative’ or a kinsman (Shah, 2010). Amongst the Naxals, the deceased fighters become prominent and visible in death, while their names are taken on by living comrades to diffuse their individual identities further. In modelling themselves after the deceased and acquiring their names as aliases, the legends of the communist soldiers live on. Of course, it has also been noted that the constant shifting configuration of aliases amongst Naxals makes it difficult for the counterinsurgency forces and intelligence agencies to get a fix on their names and faces.6 Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 169 The Pakistani Taliban: religious indoctrination as insurgent ideology There are varying stories about the rise of the Taliban. A talib is a ‘student’ in Arabic. The Taliban has had many avatars over time. At the time of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan the Central Intelligence Agency, in coordination with the Pakistani government, backed local Afghan student group fighting against the Soviet invasion in 1979. These fighters called the mujahideen (strugglers for jihad) became the main political entrepreneurs for the historical course of Afghanistan. The mujahideen were organised into several small units to fight the Soviet Union’s dominance and, in time, developed mutual rivalries against each other, in what some observers have said may have exacerbated the transfer of power in Afghanistan in 1989. In 1989, after the Soviets left Afghanistan, many former mujahideen fighters allied themselves on various sides of new political divides. The new struggle was against the regime of Sheikh Najibullah, who had ruled with Soviet support. Chief amongst the dissenting mujahideen were Gul- buddin Hekmatyar (founder of the Hizb- e-Islami (Hekmatyar) political party that ruled Afghanistan in the mid 1990s and was supported by the Pakistani government), Osama bin Laden (leader of Al Qaeda), Ahmad Shah Masood (who fought against the Taliban as they sought to establish supremacy during the Afghan civil war; he was the state’s Minister of Defence) and Mullah Moham- mad Omar (the head of the Taliban). As the Afghan civil war heated up, Mullah Omar, a former mujahideen took less than fifty ‘taliban’ (students) from Afghan refugee camps across the border in Pakistan and began an assault on warlords (some of whom were also former mujahideen) in low- lying areas of Afghanistan. Initially the Taliban were welcomed by the locals for their anti- corruption ideals. Such was the military prowess of Omar’s small band that by the end of 1995, the Taliban had captured Kandahar and Herat. A year later the Taliban had captured Kabul and forged an alliance with Gulbuddin Hekmatyar. Ahmad Shah Masood (a former Hekmatyar ally, but Defence Minister under the new Islamic state) was able to rout the Taliban for a short period of time with help from a united front called the North- ern Alliance, with Abdul Rashid Dostum, Abdul Qadir and Ismail Khan (all former mujahideen). When Kabul fell to the Taliban in September 1996, Masood remained a rebel in hiding and is reportedly one of the few dissenters who repeatedly spurned any offer of powersharing made by the Taliban. On Septem- ber 9, 2001, two alleged Al Qaeda operatives assassinated Masood. The Taliban graduated in 1996 from being the conquerors of Kabul to establishing the strictest Islamic state in the world (the Islamic Emirate of Afghani- stan) until their collapse in 2001. Today the Taliban exists as an insurgency with several groups, amongst which we can count the Quetta Shura Taliban (led by original Taliban leader Mullah Omar after he was deposed in 2001 for his support of Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden), the Tehrik- e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and the Afghan Taliban, amongst other independently floated insurgent groups with varying allegiances to Al Qaeda or Taliban leaders. 170 V. Sirnate All Taliban groups draw heavily on Deobandi Islam, a parochial and narrow interpretation of Islam (Rashid, 2000). Deoband, a small town northeast of Delhi, had a madrassah established in the late 1800s. At that time in India, there were several religious reform movements committed to interrogating practices and principles laid down by parent religions. In Deoband, the main madrassah was committed to challenging Shia and Sufi influence in Islam. A guild of scholars imparted seminary style teaching to pupils. The Sunni- Deobandi school of Islam that was established privileged routine in worship over all else. This routine was maintained by a focus on dress, prayer and social behaviour (especially for women). However, for a short period of time, the Deobandi leadership combined its reformist agenda, which from today’s standpoint would be considered regressive, with a progressive anti- colonialism. For the Deobandi leadership the 1857 Mutiny was a crucial turning point and the Deobandi leaders began an explicit support of the Indian National Congress and much later, by 1920, of M.K. Gandhi (Metcalf, 2002). How did a reformist Islamic movement that at one point was anti- colonial in its orientation provide the ideological basis of Taliban style regime and insurgency? In the final years of the colonial anti- struggle in the sub-continent the Deobandis began supporting the Muslim League led by Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the founder leader of Pakistan and head of the Muslim League. According to Barbara Metcalf, the ulema (clerics) of Deoband organised as a political formation called the Jamiat Ulema ul- Islam (JUI) and were against the Indian secular- ist vision being sold by Jawaharlal Nehru. After the 1948 Partition, the ulema and their political party became involved in the debates on the nature of the Pakistani state and were influential in giving Islam pride of place amongst matters of state in Pakistan. Metcalf points out that the Islamist ideology seemed to be remarkably flexible. The JUI was able to form alliances with unlikely allies and oppose them at will. Once out of power Islam provided the language for providing rights and democracy to the masses (Metcalf, 1982, 2002). The turning point for the Deobandi JUI was sometime in the 1980s, when Zia encouraged the institutionalisation of madrassahs across Pakistan in an attempt to provide his regime with a religious legitimacy. In this climate of Sunnification of Pakistan can be found the roots of the Taliban (Metcalf, 2002). Afghan refugees driven across the border into Pakistan in the millions could only find madrassah education. As Ahmad Rashid (2000) notes, ‘an extreme form of Deobandism was being preached by Pakistani Islamic parties in Afghan refugee camps in Pakistan’. Two years after seizing power in 1998, the professedly Deobandi Taliban was found to be in alliance with Al Qaeda, the transnational terrorist group that was responsible for embassy bombings in East Africa. This connection, combined with the shoddy status of women under the Taliban regime, where they were not allowed to work and harsh restrictions were placed on their mobility and socio- political agency, rendered the Taliban regime a humanrights disaster. The Taliban had used Bin Laden’s wealth and networks to propel themselves to power, but after 9/11 Al Qaeda’s anti- Westernism, echoed by the Taliban, began Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 171 to be punished, first, in the form of warnings and sanctions, and then in the form of a full- scale ground invasion of Afghanistan by NATO and Pakistani forces. Not surprisingly, after heavy fighting with many casualties on both sides and power in Afghanistan reverting to older warlords, the Taliban leadership sought shelter in neighbouring Pakistan’s Federally Administered Tribal Areas. Mullah Omar forged the Quetta Shura Taliban (QST), or a Taliban regime/insurgency in exile. Intelligence reports have independently stated that the QST orchestrates the Taliban insurgency, with Stanley McChrystal con- firming this in 2009. The reports also indicate that the Pakistani intelligence services and army provide valuable support to the QST. An interviewee stated that the Pakistani counterinsurgency officials only chase QST targets once pressure comes from the Amer icans, leading to sporadic counterinsurgency against the QST. All other counterinsurgency operations are centred on the Tehrik- e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP).7 The TTP became an insurrectionary outfit only as recently as 2007 under the leadership of Baitullah Mehsud (killed in 2009 in a US drone attack). The key event that prompted the change was the attack on the Lal Masjid mosque in Pakistan by General Pervez Musharraf ’s regime. The TTP united thirteen splinter groups fighting the Pakistani army and state. The demands of the TTP include fighting the NATO and Pakistani forces, demanding the release of key Islamic leaders, a commitment to enacting Sharia and removing Pakistani military checkpoints from the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA). Housed in South Waziristan, the TTP now has cells in all of Pakistan’s four provinces. The organisation is not as well knit as the Maoists of India or Nepal, with the point man being the local ‘commander’. All units, however, have common organisational goals. The number of armed and other recruits of the TTP range from about 30,000 to 35,000. The South Asia Terrorism Portal has recently reported that the TTP had also established links with Pakistan- backed Kashmiri insurgent groups like the Harkat- ul-Mujahideen, the Lashkar- e-Taiba and the Jaish- e-Muhammad.8 The Taliban went a step further in innovating their ideological dissemination strategy. Maulana Fazlullah, a prominent Muslim leader of the Tehrik-e-Nafaz- e-Shariat-e-Muhammadi (which later allied with the TTP) in Swat Valley in Pakistan used radio broadcasts to spread the Islamic message and call to arms. The radio transmitters were mobile and mounted on motorcycles and trucks. He was nicknamed the ‘FM Mullah’ and, following the success of his strategy, similar FM Mullahs were found mushrooming in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas. Amongst the Taliban the shaheed or martyred soldiers attain a pride of place in heaven or jannat. The emphasis on martyrdom is a familiar narrative for all nationalist struggles, secessionist movements and revolutionary struggles. The martyr as a romantic figure who by his (and sometimes her) glori- ous death in the cause of justice and the people, is a powerful metaphor that is able to rationalise the necessity of violence and persuade individual actors to act in similar ways. In the Taliban’s imagination, martyrdom is a high form, perhaps even the highest form, of social and political achievement. 172 V. Sirnate Huma Yusuf, a Pakistani columnist, has stated that the Taliban initially pitched their messages to the people of FATA by asking for permission from local imams to speak in the mosques.9 In the mosques, usually during the Friday prayer, a Taliban cleric would take the stage and say that the Taliban was not interested in the local tribes’ women or property. They just wanted the locals to be better Muslims, like the Taliban. They would then offer employment, a monthly salary and a motorcycle. Finally, they added, they were setting up desks for dispute resolution. For many young men this was incentive enough to begin sympathising, said Yusuf. But the charm of the message was its simplicity – it didn’t make inordinate or difficult demands on the recruits. Instead it talked of support and payment. The Taliban also established nascent institutions that did what the Pakistani state was unable to do – resolve long-standing disputes within and between tribes. Given the structural, infrastructural and material conditions of people in the FATA the monetary incentive was sufficient. However, being part of the Taliban also meant having access to a powerful social network, moneyed allies and guardian- like figures. For disempowered youth with no access to money, employment or future education the Taliban was a way out of a social structure that had remained relatively unaltered for at least two centuries. Of course, there was also respect attached to being a Taliban, since one became a warrior by default or at least someone struggling against injustice and imperial oppression. As discussed before many of these youth also tended to be poor with only madrassah education. In many ways, they were already ideologically condi- tioned to recognise the Taliban’s message. Such youth were drawn into informal conversations by Taliban recruiters and later offered a place in the ranks. Refugee camps were good places to recruit and harsh counterinsurgency operations (like in India and Nepal) turned many fence sitters into proper supporters of the Taliban.10 Christine Fair found that local imams had aided in insurgent recruitment in Pakistan. Imams identified particular students and encouraged their parents to send them to particular madrassahs from where the student often found his way into a training camp (Fair, 2004).

The Nepali Maoist movement: from protracted war to pacting with the state The Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist (CPN- M) was formed in 1995 by Comrade Prachanda and Baburam Bhattarai, when a split occurred in the Com- munist Party of Nepal- Unity Centre. The Maoists of Nepal, steered by the CPN- M hit the political stage in 1996, when they attacked six police stations and army outposts simultaneously in various regions of Nepal. Their leaders, Prach- anda and Baburam Bhattarai, were deeply influenced by the Shining Path guerrillas of Peru. They announced: ‘Let us march ahead on the path of struggle towards establishing the people’s rule by wrecking the reactionary ruling system of state’. Between 1996 and 2001, the Nepali Maoists continued to attack military and police targets in the districts of Rolpa, Rukum, Salyan and Jajarkot. By the year 2000, the movement had spread to most of the Nepali countryside.11 Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 173 Nepal had a reigning monarch and its political history was complicated by the reintroduction of democracy in 1990. Frequent fighting between rival political groups and the conspicuous role of the monarchy, also meant that development, to the extent that it existed in Nepal, was lopsided, and huge swathes of people in the Nepali countryside had little access to the state and its resources. The Maoists in Nepal claimed that they existed to represent the poor unlike any other political formation. They saw total war as the only solution to the exacerbated class conflict that existed. They claimed that their supporters were treated as ‘second class citizens’, and typically belonged to the lower- caste and fringe groups in Nepal, by the state and the political and economic elites.12 The state was an agent of resource extraction for the economic elites and argued that the army used heavy coercion (Maoist Manifesto). The Nepali Maoists had launched a “People’s War” to establish a “New Democracy” in Nepal (Pandey 2010). In a memorandum that listed forty demands, the Maoists asked for the abolition of royal privileges and a new constitution, amongst smaller demands pertaining to water and electricity sharing with the regional hegemon India. In 1998 the CPN- M formed the Central Military Commission. By 2003, Nepali government estimates stated that the CPN- M had an organised strength of approximately 5,500 combatants, 8,000 militia, 4,500 cadres, 33,000 ‘followers’ and 200,000 sympathisers.13 During the People’s War, the CPN-M recruited from amongst the tribals of Nepal and the Nepali untouchable communities that were on the lowest rung of the socioeconomic ladder. These groups included the Magars, Tharus, Janjatis (Gurungs, Rais, Limbus, Tamangs, Dalits, Brahmins and Chhetris, the last two also providing the political and military leadership). An intelligence report provided further information that retired ex- servicemen had provided crucial training and tactical assistance to the CPN- M. One- fifth of the Nepali Maoists were estimated to be women. It was also reported that women gathered intelligence, acted as couriers and, in each unit of 35–40 men, at least two women were present. Like the Indian naxals, the Nepali Maoists initially began with country- made, self- loading rifles called bharmars in India. They then graduated to assault rifles like the AK-47 and the old .303 rifles. Most of the weaponry of the South Asian Maoists is taken from the state itself through well placed and strategic ambushes of counterinsurgency personnel and ammunition dumps. The Nepali Maoists also had hand grenades and light machine guns in their arsenal. Nearly 85 per cent of these weapons in Nepal were reportedly looted from the police and Royal Nepal Army. Officials are less clear about the extent of looting of weapons by Indian Maoists.14 In terms of organisation, the CPN- M functioned more in the nature of a political party. The apex Standing Committee stood above a Politburo that issued directives to regional bureaus, sub- regional bureaus, area committees and cell committees. Military might was exhibited by the existence of six guerrilla battal- ions each ordered by a chief commissar. Each such commissar was also an auto- matic member of the Central Committee. The Nepali communists began mobilising and recruiting followers even before they announced the turn to a People’s War. As early as 1995 in some 174 V. Sirnate districts volunteers of the CPN- M would organise villagers to make demands on the state. Initially these demands were about better infrastructure. Alongside this the group launched an extensive indoctrination campaign through speeches, canvassing, pamphleteering and posters and folk theatre and dance that focused on the necessity of violence to ‘fix’ the state of affairs and overthrow the powers that be (Eck, 2007). The Maoists in Nepal and India also spent a considerable amount of effort on recruiting women into the groups. This was done in Nepal by having female motivators who talked about gender equality. In India, particularly in Andhra Pradesh and Chhattisgarh, the naxals talked about the exploitation and abuse of women by the local police. In Chhattisgarh, a human rights report indicated that tribal women who had lost the men in their family in the fighting between the Naxals and locally recruited and armed Salwa Judum militia (and the paramilitary forces), often joined the Maoists for protection, seeing the dalams as safer than the state forces.15 Whether in Nepal, India or Pakistan the problem that insurgent groups face is the same – how can a group pitch an ideological message to as many people as possible, as simply and legibly as possible with limited resources and out of sight of the state? Folk theatre, song and dances, oral narrations and preaching are all crucial to facilitate this. In Nepal national songs familiar even to children were given new lyrics that talked of revolution and defeating the class enemy (Fujikura, 2003). In Nepal, the ideological campaign by the CPN- M was meant to present insurrection as necessary and the means towards reclaiming the state as routine yet momentous. Once there were sympathetic ears on the ground, and the Peo- ple’s War began in earnest, the recruitment drive began – through incentives, coercion and door- to-door recruitment strategies. As Maoists were killed in the counterinsurgency operations, the deceased comrades became the grist for myths and skits that valorised their deaths and deemed it necessary for the Maoist ‘cause’. Similar short plays re- enacted traditional scenes of feudal exploitation and drove home the concept of the ‘class enemy’. By the end of such plays, the Maoist was shown as the only real liberator of the people and that the CPN- M ought to be supported by the masses (Eck, 2007). In Nepal, martyrdom was used to create symbolic capital (Shneiderman, 2003).

Conclusion When it comes to understanding why insurgencies arise, the ethnic conflict and civil war literature has had a tendency to emphasise structural factors like the presence of deep socioeconomic grievances that are not addressed by the state’s institutional mechanisms, the likelihood of a lucrative payoff for the insurgent group, weak state capacity, forest cover and terrain that favours insurgent groups, etc. However, the role of ideological mobilisation to create recruits and a supportive local population for the insurgent group should also be admitted as a variable that mobilises local support and recruits. South Asia is currently at a Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 175 historical juncture where disparate political formations and ideologies jostle for supremacy. This essay has demonstrated that a political ideology, whether it is militant or otherwise, will have a hard time being successful without a central organisation, clear political goals and a grassroots strategy that can conscript followers. In all three cases there are also schisms between the ideology that is deployed on the ground and that which is advocated at the level of the central/national leadership. The Maoists target different tribal communities in India in the state of Chhattisgarh and Orissa. In Bihar and Jharkhand they target tribals and dalits. In Nepal the message was modulated from region to region and from group to group (Shneiderman and Turin, 2004). While less is known about the content of the TTP’s ideological deployment, the diffuse nature of the organisation and its components that include at least thirteen other groups signal that the message differs from region to region. It is indeed remarkable that at the same political moment, one sees extreme right- and left-wing ideologies become increasingly powerful and dominant in some regions of South Asia. That many of these ideologies incorporate a militaristic strategy for challenging the state does, at some level, signal the failure of the party political process. Even though the ideologies of the Maoist movements in South Asia and the TTP in Pakistan are disparate, the one commonality they do share is a privileging of an alternative imagining of the nation. For the Maoists in Nepal (Shneiderman, 2003) and India it is a non- bourgeois state led by indigenous people. For the TTP it is a state fully committed to the shariah. All three movements excel at propelling the local, the indigenous and the tribal to the forefront of political imagination by honouring these traditions and seeing this as the building block of new nations.

Notes 1 See Ramana’s (2011) commentary,. 2 In her 1979 book States and Social Revolutions, Theda Skocpol defined a social revolution as a complete and basic transformation of a country’s class and social structures, a change in the nation’s dominant ideology accompanied by class-based upheavals from below. At about the time of the publication of the book, the Iranian Revolution also occurred which seemed to challenge facets of Skocpol’s work. A few months later, she wrote an article which attempted to fit the Iranian revolution in her 1979 framework, but she concedes that her own insight into how revolutions occur has changed, since she is now more amenable to giving ideology a place in her structural framework. The articulation of dissent against Shah Reza Pahlavi II as an echo of Shiite doctrine which allowed the Shah to be seen as a usurper and an illegitimate ruler allowed both secular and devout Muslims in urban areas to collectively resist the Shah’s regime. At the time the admission that ideology played a very crucial role in powering a revolution was a powerful turn in political science. 3 See the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL, 2006) report entitled, Where the state makes war on its own people. This report looks at the Salwa Judum counterinsurgency in Chhattisgarh and provides a good background about the Judum. 4 Interview with official at Indian Ministry of Home Affairs, Naxalite department. 5 Materials obtained during fieldwork in Chhattisgarh, India in January 2010. 176 V. Sirnate 6 Interview with Director General of Police Chhattisgarh, Vishwa Ranjan, conducted in Raipur, Chhattisgarh, India in January 2011. 7 Interview with United States Army personnel, currently serving in Afghanistan. Inter- view granted on conditions of anonymity. 8 For more information on the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan, see the South Asia Terrorism Portal: www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/pakistan/terroristoutfits/ttp.htm. 9 See www.indianexpress.com/news/taliban-using-mosques- as-recruitment-centre/446 439. Huma Yusuf, a columnist for Pakistani newspaper Dawn, shed more light on Taliban recruitment in the FATA at a talk at the School of Journalism at the Univer- sity of California, Berkeley in 2008. 10 See www.usnews.com/news/world/articles/2009/02/09/taliban-finds-fertile- recruiting- ground- in-pakistans- tribal-refugee-camps. 11 South Asia Terrorism Portal brief on Nepali Maoists: www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/nepal/terroristoutfits/index.html. 12 Also see Alastair Lawson’s piece on the BBC website, ‘Who are Nepal’s Maoist Rebels?’: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/3573402.stm. 13 South Asia Terrorism Portal brief on Nepali Maoists: www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/nepal/terroristoutfits/index.html. 14 Interview with official at the Ministry of Home Affairs, New Delhi specialising in Naxal affairs. Interview granted on condition of anonymity. 15 See PUCL, 2006.

References Bhatia, B. 2005. The Naxalite movement in Central Bihar. Economic and Political Weekly, 40, 1536–1549. Brass, P. R. 2005. The production of Hindu- Muslim violence in contemporary India, Uni- versity of Washington Press. Eck, K. 2007. Recruiting rebels: indoctrination and political education in Nepal. Depart- ment of Peace and Conflict Research, Uppsala University Fair, C. C. 2004. Militant recruitment in Pakistan: implications for Al Qaeda and other organizations. Studies in Conflict and Terrorism, 27, 489–504. Fujikura, T. 2003. The role of collective imagination in the Maoist conflict in Nepal. Himalaya, Journal of the Association for Nepal and Himalayan Studies, 23, 7. Hansen, T. B. 1999. The saffron wave: democracy and Hindu nationalism in modern India, Princeton University Press. Jaffrelot, C. 1998. The Hindu nationalist movement in India, Columbia University Press. Katzenstein, M. F., Mehta, U. S. and Thakkar, U. 1997. The rebirth of Shiv Sena: the sym- biosis of discursive and organizational power. Journal of Asian Studies, 56, 371–390. Metcalf, B. D. 1982. Islamic Revival in British India: Deoband, 1860–1900, Princeton University Press. Metcalf, B. D. 2002. Traditionalist Islamic activism: Deoband, Tablighis, and Talibs. ISIM paper, 1. http://essays.ssrc.org/sept11/essays/metcalf_text_only.htm. Miklian, J. and Carney, S. 2010. Fire in the hole. Foreign Policy, 16 August. Pandey, N. 2010. New Nepal: the faultlines, Sage. PUCL (People’s Union for Civil Liberties). 2006. Where the state makes war on its own people, Delhi. Ramana, P. V. 2011. Negotiating with the Maoists: Lessons from the Andhra experience. Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses. www.idsa.in/idsacomments/Negotiatingwith theMaoistsLessonsfromtheAndhraexperience_pvraman_131011. Ideological insurgencies in South Asia 177 Rashid, A. 2000. Taliban: Militant Islam, Oil and Fundamentalism in Central Asia, Yale. Roy, A. 2011. Walking with the comrades, Penguin. Satnam. 2010. Jangalnama: travels in a Maoist guerilla zone, Penguin. Shah, A. 2010. In the shadows of the state: indigenous politics, environmentalism, and insurgency in Jharkhand, India, Duke University Press. Shneiderman, S. 2003. Violent histories and political consciousness: Reflections on Nepal’s Maoist movement from Piskar village. Himalaya, Journal of the Association for Nepal and Himalayan Studies, 23, 9. Shneiderman, S. and Turin, M. 2004. The path to Jan Sarkar in Dolakha District: towards an ethnography of the Maoist movement. M. Hutt (ed.). Himalayan ‘people’s war’: Nepal’s Maoist rebellion, 79–111. Skocpol, T. 1979. States and social revolutions, Cambridge University Press. Varshney, A. 2003. Ethnic conflict and civic life: Hindus and Muslims in India, Yale Uni- versity Press. Volkan, V. D. and Sinclair, C. 1997. Bloodlines: from ethnic pride to ethnic terrorism, Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Wilkinson, S. I. 2006. Votes and violence: electoral competition and ethnic riots in India, Cambridge University Press. 10 Ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in contemporary South Asia A conclusion

Jugdep S. Chima

The book’s argument Countries in contemporary South Asia have seen hundreds of thousands of violent deaths within their borders caused by ethnic subnationalist insurgencies since the end of colonial rule in the mid- twentieth century. The twin postcolonial projects of “nation-building” (e.g. building overarching national identities through the utilization of carefully selected and salient cultural and iconic symbols) and “state- building” (e.g. extending the power of the central government and its institutions into the peripheral regions of the countries) have been only partially successful in these states. This edited volume has attempted to answer the questions why do ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in South Asia emerge and, more importantly, why do they occur at particular points in time and not at others? After all, violent conflict between the central government and subnationalist ethnic groups (or actually factions within these groups) is not ubiquitous but only occurs at particular point in time. In this attempt, nine noted scholars have provided detailed micro- historical analysis of the emergence, dynamics, and trajectories of their particular case(s) of ethnic subnationalist insurgency in South Asia. The main argument put forward in this book has been that while “identity” is a necessary factor for insurgency, it is not a sufficient one. In other words, the mere presence of subnationalist ethnic groups does not automatically or necessarily lead to violent secessionism. Instead, ethnic mobilization and insurgency only emerge when they are “activated” by tension emerging from political competition between ethnic and central state elites (or from concurrent competition between ethnic elites themselves and resultant confrontation with state authorities). These political dynamics, when combined with favorable socioeconomic and/or political conditions, make the ethnic masses primed to accept the often symbolically rich appeals from their leaders to mobilize against the central state. Favorable socio-economic conditions include either objectively deteriorating economic conditions for an ethnic group or its blocked economic aspirations by the central government. Political conditions conducive to ethnic insurgency include either a restricted “conception” of national identity not inclusive of minority ethnic groups, or the erosion of effective federalism with the centralized of power at the national level. Conclusion 179

Internal group elite competition

Identity Favorable socio-economic/political conditions Violence

Ethnic vs. state elite competition

Figure 10.1 Causal model of ethnonationalist insurgency in South Asia.

As explained in Chapter 1, a schematic representation of this comprehensive model for the timing and dynamics of mobilization looks like that in Figure 10.1. This model incorporates primary elements from the existing conceptual literature on the nature of ethnicity (including primordialism and instrumentalism) and on political mobilization (such as rational- choice, social constructivism, and socio- psychological theories). It provides a parsimonious and testable explanation for this phenomena, while synthesizing the variety of interrelated and relevant theoretical literatures.

The “centralized” nature of South Asian States: a permissive structural/permissive condition for ethnic subnationalist insurgencies The explanatory utility of the causal model offered in this book is further enhanced by briefly elaborating on an important political condition in South Asia that increases the propensity of ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in the region— that is, the highly centralized nature of South Asian states. As alluded to earlier, primary political conditions conducive to ethnic insurgency include either a restricted “conception” of national identity not inclusive of minority ethnic groups, or the erosion of federalism with the centralized of power at the national level.1 Both of these two conditions operate in conjunction to different degrees in most South Asian countries. In relation to India, it is debatable whether the country is an “ethnic democracy” in which Hinduism and the Hindi language form the hegemonic basis for “Indian” national identity as argued by some scholars (G. Singh 2010) or whether, alternatively as argued by others, “Indian” national identity is truly “secular” in nature partially because of multiple cross- cutting cleavages of 180 J.S. Chima identity that make it impossible to identify a truly hegemonic or dominant religious/ethnic “group” (Manor 1996). This debate about the cultural or ideational basis for “Indian” national identity aside, there is little question that the centralization of power into the center and the erosion of effective federalism during Mrs. Indira Gandhi’s tenure of power in the early and mid- 1980s provided one important impetus for ethnic subnationalist movements throughout the country.2 In fact, the ethnonationalist insurgencies in Punjab, Kashmir, and Assam all began and escalated almost in unison during the mid- and late- 1980s, largely due to Mrs. Gandhi’s centralization of power and intrusive style of leadership. The central state’s inability to integrate the concerns of marginal tribal groups into its dominant, increasingly capitalist, mold of economic development is also one important causal factor in the Naxalite insurgency in central India (Subramanian 2005: 728–729). The “centralized” nature of the state in Pakistan has also been an important factor in the onset of ethnonationalist insurgencies in that country. To explain, Pakistani political elites, including its founding father Mohammed Ali Jinnah, tried to use Islam as a unifying identity for the country’s various linguistic/ethnic groups. Yet the Pakistani state was initially dominated by Mohajirs, the Muslim refugees from central India to Pakistan, whose highly educated leaders had spearheaded the Muslim League’s movement for a separate Muslim- majority country (Jaffrelot 1998: 156). They initially held the top positions in Pakistan’s government and dominated the new country’s administrative bureaucracy. After General Ayub Khan transformed Pakistan into an authoritarian state in the mid/ late 1950s, this Mohajir- dominance shifted toward the Punjabis, who were Paki- stan’s largest linguistic group and formed more than 80 percent of the country’s military (Jaffrelot 1998: 157). In contrast to India which has beem an institutionalized democracy with a usually (and comparatively more) federalist set- up, Pakistan has shifted between authoritarianism and democracy through its political history, with only limited federalism. Through these shifts between authoritarianism and democracy, the Pakistani military has traditionally played a major role in Pakistani politics through its veto-power or king- making capacities, as well as a major role in Pakistan’s economy.3 Thus, Pakistan has been a highly centralized state without institutionalized democracy or federalism. Linguistic/ ethnic minorities, especially the Baloch and to a lesser degree Pushtuns, have often felt politically and economically marginalized in comparison to larger (or more politically influential) groups such as Mohajirs, Sindhis, and Punjabis. In fact, this type of political and cultural suffocation due to lack of democracy and effective federalism, was one important factor behind East Pakistan’s break from its mother country of Pakistan and the creation of Bangladesh based on Bengali linguistic nationalism. This occurred even though the vast majority of East Paki- stanis were also Muslim. Thus, Pakistan’s political history may have been very different had it evolved into a federalized democracy in which regionally based ethnic groups could compete at the province- level and become politically relevant in contributing to national- level ruling coalitions, as opposed to being a centralized usually authoritarian state (Bose 2004). Yet, even this, as seen by Conclusion 181 India’s track record with periods of centralization and its own multiple ethnonationalist insurgencies, may not have completely prevented such problems in Pakistan. Sri Lanka, in the post-colonial era, represents a classic case of political centralization—both in terms of a parochial, non- inclusive “construction” of national identity and also institutionally. Surprisingly, there had been no riots or other forms of collective violence between Sinhalese (who were about 70 percent of the country’s population) and Tamils (who were about 23 percent) for hundreds of years before the onset of Independence in 1948 (Stepan et al. 2011: 144). This changed dramatically in the decades after Independence. First, Tamils who had migrated to Sri Lanka from South India in the late nineteenth century to work on the country’s tea plantations were disenfranchised by the Sinhalese- dominated government in 1948 under the pretext that they were not truly “Sri Lankans” (Stepan et al. 2011: 149). This cut the Tamil voting strength in the country nearly in half, including in parts of the country in which Tamil swing votes were crucial for cross-communal coalitional politics. As a result, Tamil political parties eventually had little influence in national-level politics and governance, even though the country was formally a democracy. Second, “Sinhalese Only” language policies of the Sri Lankan government starting in the mid- 1950s eroded Tamil representation in the country’s civil service and educational institutions to a mere fraction of their levels at the onset of Independence (Stepan et al. 2011: 151–153). As a result, the educational and financial prospects for the Tamil community, especially the youth, eroded significantly. Third, Sinhalese- based political parties, who no longer needed support from Tamil political parties in their competition against each other, began engaging in a process of competitive “ethnic- outbidding” by which each defined Sri Lankan identity in increasingly restrictive terms by focusing exclusively on Sinhalese and Buddhist cultural motifs at the expense of Tamil and Hindu ones (DeVotta 2005). This contributed to reoccurring ethnic pogroms against Tamils, especially before national elections. Fourth, the Sinhalese- dominated central government refused Tamil demands for increased federalism in the country which was necessary to give Tamils a sense of semi- autonomy and self- governance in those few provinces in which they formed a majority. In short, Sri Lanka became a highly centralized “ethnic democracy” both culturally and institutionally by the 1980s, thus giving impetus for Tamil ethnonationalist insurgency. These political and cultural trends have continued even in post- insurgency Sri Lanka (Wickramasinghe 2014). Bangladesh is a highly centralized polity, both institutionally and culturally. Bangladesh, which was previously East Pakistan before its succession from the larger Pakistan in 1971 on the basis of regional/linguistic Bengali nationalism, is a unity democratic state without devolved political units such as states with their own legislatures. Furthermore, “Bangladeshi” national identity is explicitly based on Islam and the Bengali language. Over 90 percent of the country’s population is Muslim, and Bengali is the country’s official language spoken by nearly 98 percent of its population. This institutional and cultural centralization presents 182 J.S. Chima a structural political problem for regionally concentrated ethnic minorities such as the indigenous Jumma tribes, who are not Muslim and whose primary language is not Bengali. The Jumma people account for less than 1 percent of the country’s population (Phadnis and Ganguly 2001: 175). While the Awami League under Sheikh Hasina has been more accommodative to the Jumma than the Bangladesh National Party of Begum Khaleda Zia, implementation of accommodative accords designed to grant more local administrative autonomy to the Jumma tribes in the Chittigong Hill Tracts has been forestalled because of periodic “ethnic- outbidding” by the two main national political parties. The result is a continuing conflict in the Chittigong Hill Tracts. Centralization has also been an integral feature in the governance and politics of Nepal. The country has been a monarchy for most of its history until 2006, when the monarchy reached a compromise with protesting political parties including representatives of the Maoists, to begin a process of democratization, including eventual representative democracy. Nonetheless, allegations of continuing political dominance by ethnic Newars and upper- caste Hindus persist, and the process of forming a new constitution and system of governance has been a rocky one with continued gridlock between the various political parties (Kantha 2014: 206–209). The eventual results of democratization, while promising, remain uncertain. The discussion above points to the fact that the highly centralized nature of South Asian states—whether through the restrictive “conception” of national identity not inclusive of ethnic minorities or the lack of effective federalism—is an important structural or political factor in explaining the propensity for ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in the region. Yet such monocausal explanations are insufficient without also taking into consideration the actual politics within these countries at given points in time, which give rise to competition within and between ethnic and state elites. As explained earlier, it is this competition which prompts political elites to begin using symbolically rich appeals in the attempt to mobilize their ethnic supporters. Favorable socioeconomic and/or political conditions make co- ethnics potentially more prone to mobilize against the central government. Nonetheless, the highly centralized nature of states in South Asia certainly remains an important structural or political factor in helping explain the propensity for ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in region.

The comparative trajectories of ethnic subnationalist insurgencies in South Asia While the primary analytical task of this volume has been to explain the causes and dynamics of ethnonationalist insurgencies in contemporary South Asia, the specific chapters also demonstrate much variance in the trajectories ofthese insurgencies. These too are worthy of comparative observation and analysis, however cursory. For example, one insurgency (the Maoist movement in Nepal) appears to be over through compromise with and integration into the central state; two insurgencies (the Sikh separatist movement in Punjab- India and the Conclusion 183 Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka) have apparently been crushed through overwhelming military force; insurgencies in two regions (the ULFA movement in Assam and the various ethnic/tribal movements in the Northeast including Naga- land) continue but in much weakened form; and five others (the Kashmir insurgency in India, the tribal-based Naxalite insurgency in central India, the Baloch insurgency in Pakistan, the Pushtun/Taliban movement in Pakistan, and the Jumma insurgency in the CHT of Bangladesh) appear to be continuing virtually unabated. None of the ethnic insurgencies in South Asia has managed to defeat the central state or succeed in its goal of secession, thus demonstrating the comparative advantage of power and capacity residing in the central state in comparison to the subnationalist ethnic groups. While a systematic understanding of the factors accounting for the variance in outcomes between the insurgencies would require chapters with a different analytic focus and couched in different type of academic literature than offered in this volume, some preliminary observations can be made. First, it should be noted that the empirical record of ethnic peace accords— including those in Punjab, Kashmir, Assam, India’s Northeast, Sri Lanka, CHT, and in Pakistan’s Northwest—remains questionable. The main problem with ethnic peace accords appears to be the unwillingness (or inability) of central political elites to fully implement them, thus leading to dissident factions within rebel ethnic groups to eventually defect and resume their violent insurgencies. One exception to this pattern has been the accord between the Maoists and monarchical central government in Nepal, which has resulted in emerging constitutional changes in the country including increased democratization of its political system. Such constitutional changes are probably only realistic where the insurgency in question has the ability to threaten military victory over the state, and where the state’s military capacity is insufficient to localize the insurgency to only an isolated portion of the country. In this respect, larger countries such as India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh may be able to better absorb the costs of localized insurgencies in their peripheries, more than either small countries or those in which the dissident ethnic group comprises a significant portion of its population such as in Sri Lanka. Regarding the latter, either military victory of one side or the other, or significant constitutional reforms were probably required for conflict termination. Second, even in cases where the central state appears to have militarily crushed the ethnonationalist insurgency, successful counterinsurgency necessi- tated internal political changes within the respective ethnic group and the weakening of militants through internal dissention. For example, it is doubtful whether the Sri Lankan state could have defeated the LTTE had the latter not began to lose popular support within the Tamil community because of its unwillingness to compromise and its bifurcation into two factions, one of which defected to the government’s side. Similar dynamics were found in the Sikh separatist movement, which mushroomed into competing factions and began to engage in high levels of fratricide, thus losing the support of the mass population and moderate Sikh politicians. These two insurgencies, and to a lesser degree the 184 J.S. Chima insurgency in Assam, appear to conform Atul Kohli’s description of inverted U- shape in the trajectories of many violent ethnonationalist movements (Kohli 1997), or Subrata Mitra’s formulation that insurgencies in South Asia tend to take a path from “transactional politics” to “transcendental politics” and eventually back to “transactional politics” again (Mitra 1996). Yet, as the multiple cases of persistent and more institutionalized insurgency in South Asia demonstrate, the trajectories offered by Kohli and Mitra may pertain to only select cases. Further research into the internal morphology of the insurgent movements, their relationship with above- ground political actors, and the structural charac- teristics of the state is necessary to help explain why some insurgencies are prone to the state’s counterinsurgency efforts, while others are not. Yet, even in the case of the Sikh separatist insurgency in India and the Tamil insurgency in Sri Lanka, their potential re-eruption cannot be ruled out. After all, as some scholars argue, rebel victories tend to be more conducive to lasting peace than state victories over rebel groups, because in the latter the conditions and issues which initially lead to the violence remain unresolved (Toft 2010). Finally, the most efficacious way to ensure durable ethnic peace in the region would involve structural or constitutional changes to the unity or federalist structure of the current multiethnic South Asian states. But central political elites in these states appear unwilling to entertain wholesale alterations to the current constructions of “nationality” and “polity” dominant in their postcolonial countries. Potential solutions involving “rightsizing” existing South Asian states by allowing secession for specific ethnic groups which have objective characteris- tics of being cohesive ethnic groups or even “nations” have not been realistically entertained by contemporary central elites in the region (Singh 2002). Instead, strategies for conflict mitigation and integration have focused on trying to build an overarching sense of “nationality” by complementing and/or concurrently eroding parochial ethnic identities, various political and structural arrangements such as powersharing or federalism, or by making secession unworkable or unthinkable with the threat of force.4 The efficacy of “rightsizing” states in South Asia may also be questionable because of the possibility of simply activating other lines of cleavage and identity within the “right- sized” state, depending on the specific construction of “nationality” in the sized”“right- state and the nature of its political system.5

Concluding remarks As demonstrated through the various empirical chapters in this volume, the potential for ethnic conflict and insurgency appears to be an institutionalized part of human and political interaction in South Asia, as well as in other parts of the postcolonial world, which erupts from time to time. “Identity” is an underlying and, in fact, necessary factor for insurgency, but it is not a sufficient one. Instead, ethnic mobilization and insurgency emerge only when they are “activated” by tension emerging from political competition between ethnic and central state elites (or from concurrent competition between ethnic elites themselves leading Conclusion 185 to confrontation with state authorities). These dynamics, when combined with favorable socioeconomic and political conditions, make the ethnic masses receptive to the symbolically rich appeals from their leaders to mobilize against the central state. Unfortunately, these periodic eruptions of violence between central state authorities and sections of minority ethnic groups have resulted in thousands of deaths every year in South Asia, and will likely continue do so in to the future. Hopefully, the eight in- depth case studies presented in this volume have provided readers with a rich and empirically detailed account of each major ethnonationalist insurgency in contemporary South Asia. Description, understanding, and explanation are the closely intertwined goals of empirical social science research. In this respect, this volume represents a significant step in describing, understanding, and explaining every major case of violent ethnonationalist insurgencies in the region. In conclusion, while the causes of violent ethnonationalist insurgencies in South Asia emerge from political interaction, their solutions (however temporary and ephemeral) are ironically also found in politics. One can idealistically hope that South Asian states will eventually move toward the direction of permanent ethnic peace within their borders by ensuring the institutionalized complementary of identities and interests between various ethnic groups and state authorities, based on conceptions of “recognition” and “justice” for both these groups and also individual citizens. This, unfortunately, remains only a distant dream.

Notes 1 A detailed analysis of the comparative effects of different ethnofederalist arrangements is found in Hale (2004). Also see Stepan et al. (2011). 2 A sophisticated discussion of political centralization and its effects in India, including during Mrs. Gandhi’s tenure as prime minister during the 1980s, is found in Brass (1991). 3 A detailed analysis of the Pakistani military’s role in the country’s society, politics, and economy is found in Siddiqa (2007). 4 For a taxonomy of various macro strategies for ethnic conflict regulation, see McGarry and O’Leary (1993). 5 See O’Leary (2002) for an elaborate analysis of “rightsizing” and “right- peopling” a state.

References Bose, Sumantra. “Decolonization and State Building in South Asia,” Journal of Inter- national Affairs 58:1 (Fall 2004), pp. 95–113. Brass, Paul. “Pluralism, Regionalism, and Decentralizing Tendencies in Contemporary Indian Politics,” in Paul Brass (ed.), Ethnicity and Nationalism: Theory and Compari- son (New Delhi: Sage Publications, 1991), pp. 114–166. Devotta, Neil. “From Ethnic Outbidding to Ethnic Conflict: The Institutional Bases for Sri Lanka’s Separatist War,” Nations and Nationalism 11:1 (2005), pp. 141–159. Hale, Henry. “Divided We Stand: Institutional Sources of Ethnofederal State Survival and Collapse,” World Politics 56:2 (January 2004), pp. 165–193. 186 J.S. Chima Jaffrelot, Christophe. “Interpreting Ethnic Movements in Pakistan,” The Pakistan Devel- opment Review 37:4 (Winter 1998), pp. 153–179. Kantha, Pramod. “Nepal and Bhutan in 2013: A Year of Elections,” Asian Survey 54:1 (January/February 2014), pp. 206–213. Kohli, Atul. “Can Democracies Accommodate Ethnic Nationalism? Rise and Decline of Self- Determination Movements in India,” The Journal of Asian Studies 56:2 (May 1997), pp. 325–344. Manor, James. “Ethnicity and Politics in India,” International Affairs 72:3 (1996), pp. 459–475. McGarry, John and Brendon O’Leary (eds.). The Politics of Ethnic Conflict Regulation: Case Studies in Protracted Ethnic Conflicts (London: Routledge, 1993). Mitra, Subrata. “Subnational Movements in South Asia: Identity, Collective Action and Political Protest,” in Subrata Mitra and R. Alison Lewis (eds.), Subnational Movements in South Asia (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996), pp. 14–41. O’Leary, Brendan. “The Elements of Right- Sizing and Right- Peopling the State,” in Brendan O’Leary, Ian S. Lustick, and Thomas Callaghy (eds.), Rightsizing the State: The Politics of Moving Borders (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp. 138–167. Phadnis, Urmila and Rajat Ganguly. Ethnicity and Nation-building in South Asia (New Delhi: Sage Publications, 2001). Siddiqa, Ayesha. Military Inc.: Inside Pakistan’s Military Economy (London: Pluto Press, 2007). Singh, Gurharpal. “Resizing and Reshaping the State: India from Partition to Present,” in Brendan O’Leary, Ian S. Lustick, and Thomas Callaghy (eds.), Rightsizing the State: The Politics of Moving Borders (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp. 138–167. Singh, Gurharpal. “Reassessing Conventional Wisdom: Ethnicity, Ethnic Conflict, and India as an Ethnic Democracy,” in Ethnonationalism in India: A Reader (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), pp. 99–119. Subramanian, K.S. “Naxalite Movement and the Union Home Ministry,” Economic and Political Weekly 40:8 (February 19–25, 2005), pp. 728–729. Stepan, Alfred, Juan Linz, and Yogendra Yadav. Crafting State-Nations: India and Other Multinational Democracies (Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2011). Toft, Monica Duffy. “Ending Civil Wars: A Case for Rebel Victory?” International Security 34:4 (Spring 2010), pp. 7–36. Wickramasinghe, Nira. “Sri Lanka in 2013: Post-war Oppressive Stability,” Asian Survey 54:1 (January/February 2014), pp. 199–205. Index

Page numbers in italics denote tables, those in bold denote figures.

AASU (All Assam Students Union) 9, 44, Ali, Tamir 148 46 All Assam Students Union (AASU) 9, 44, Abdullah, Farooq 8, 17, 20, 21, 25, 27, 29, 46 31, 32 All India Sikh Students Federation Abdullah, Omar 26, 32, 33, 38n13 (AISSF) 68, 69, 74 Abdullah, Sheikh 7, 19, 20, 23, 24, 27–8, All Jammu and Kashmir National 33, 35, 36, 37; death 8, 22, 25, 31 Conference (AJKNC) see AJKNC (All Abolition of Big Landed Estates Act 1950 Jammu and Kashmir National (AJKNC) 19 Conference) Adivasi Security Force 89 All Parties Hurriyat Conference (APHC) Afghanistan: expulsion of Soviets from 23, 28, 30 30; invasion by NATO and Pakistani All Tripura Tiger Force 90 forces 171; and Kashmir 23, 25, 30, 36; Al Qaeda 169, 170 Soviet invasion (1979) 136, 169 Aminuzzaman, Salahuddin M. 145 Afghan Taliban 169 Amman, Karuna 118–19 AGP (Assam Gana Parishad) 9, 45–6, 49, Andhra Pradesh, Indian state 161, 165, 52, 53 166; see also People’s War Group Ahluwalia, Jasbir Singh 79n18 (PWG), Andhra Pradesh AISSF (All India Sikh Students APHC (All Parties Hurriyat Conference) Federation) 68, 69, 74 28, 30 AJKNC (All Jammu and Kashmir National Armed Forces (Special) Powers Act, Conference) 7–8, 17, 19, 21, 23, 32 Assam 52 AJKNC-Congress coalition (1987) 8, 17, Arunachal Pradesh, Northeast India 10, 82, 20 90–1; nature and specificities of LTTE AJYCP (Assam Jatiyatabadi Yuva Chatra 116–19 Parishad) 9, 44, 46, 52 Ashraf, Hussain 130, 141n12 Akali Dal (Sikh political party) 9, 63, Assam, India 88–9, 91, 180; ‘black laws’ 66–9, 71, 74, 76, 78, 78n4; Anandpur 52; Bodos (tribal group) 88; challenges Sahib Resolution (1973) 62; see also 55–6; division into smaller states 82; Punjab (India); Sikhs elections (1996) 51; ethnic mobilization Akal Takht (Throne of the Timeless) 68, 42, 43, 46; ethnic nationalism 42, 43–4, 70, 71, 74, 75 45, 49; ethnic separatism 42, 43–5; Akhand Kirthani Jatha (Organization for ethnocultural groups 42; factionalism 9, the Ceaseless Singing of Devotional 50–5; as ‘internal colony’ 8, 41, 44, Songs) 68 57n1; origins of ethnic separatism 43–5; AL (Awami League), Bangladesh 13, 149, regional party politics and armed 151, 182 nationalism 45–8; secessionism 45; 188 Index Assam continued Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam pact (1957) state action and shifts in character of 107 insurgency 48–50; ‘surrender schemes’ Bangalis 156n4 95; swadhin Assam (complete political Bangladesh 82, 181–2;; Constitution 145; freedom crusade) 45, 48, 51, 55; training creation 180; as East Pakistan 143; camps 54; ULFA insurgency in 8–9, Indian support to 37n1; political parties 41–60; violence in 46–7; see also ULFA 149; population 156n5; see also (United Liberation Front of Assam) Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Assam Accord (1985) 46 Bangladesh Assam Disturbed Areas Act 52 Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) 14, Assam Frontier Rifles 166 149, 152 Assam Gana Parishad (AGP) 9, 45–6, 49, Bangladesh Society for the Enforcement of 52, 53 Human Rights (BSEHR) 147 Assam Jatiyatabadi Yuva Chatra Parishad Barauni oil refinery, Bihar 44–5 (AJYCP) 9, 44, 46, 52 Barpeta, grenade explosion (2008) 54 asymmetric federalism principle 32 Baruah, Paresh 51, 52, 56 Awami League (AL), Bangladesh 13, 149, Baruah, Raju 54 151, 182 Baruah, Ranjit 47 Bengal Tiger force 88 Babbar Khalsa (Lion of the Khalsa) 70 Bharatija Janata Party (BJP), India 62, 63, Badal, Parkash Singh 63, 74–5, 76, 77 71, 77 Badal, Sukhbir Singh 63, 77 Bhattarai, Baburam 172 Bahujan Samaj party (BSP) 76 Bhaumik, Subir 91, 96 Baloch, Abdul Hayee 136 Bhindranwale, Jarnail Singh 10, 66, 67–8, Baloch, Siddiq 140n2 70, 71, 79n12 Baloch ethnic group, Balochistan 12, 13, Bhindranwale Tiger Force for Khalistan 125, 128, 131, 132, 133, 183 70, 72 Balochistan (Pakistan): annexation by Bhutan 82 British (1884) 125–6; Baloch ethnic Bhutto, Zulfikar Ali 128, 129, 131, 139 group, insurgency by 12, 13, 125, 128, Bin Laden, Osama 169, 170 131, 132, 133, 183; Brahuni (ethnic Bizenjo, Mir Ghous Bux 136 group) 125; ethnonational insurgency Bizenjo, Mir Hasil 140n5 12, 124–42; fragmentation 125; gas BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party), India 62, 63, supplies 126–7; guerrillas 124; Gwadar 71, 77 Port issue 12, 126, 129–31; military, BLA (Baloch Liberation Army), role 131–4; nationalist militancy 135–7; Balochistan 13, 132, 134, 135 natural resources, with poverty 12, BLF (Balochistan Liberation Front) 135 126–7; new insurgency 129–35; One BLT (Bodo Liberation Tigers) 88, 94 Unit Scheme, resentment against 124, BNP (Bangladesh Nationalist Party) 14, 127; physical features 126; possible 149, 152 solution to conflict 137–9; provincial Bodo Autonomous Council 88 autonomy 127–9; Pukhtuns (ethnic Bodo Liberation Tigers (BLT) 88, 94 group) 125, 134–5; regional and global Bodos (tribal group), Assam 88 interests 134–5; socioeconomic and Bommai (S.R.) v. Union of India 63 political background of insurgency Bongaigaon district, grenade explosion 125–7; tribalism 125, 136–7; US interest (2008) 54 in 134–5 Bordoloi, Avinash 53 Balochistan Liberation Front (BLF) 135 BPLF (Balochistan People’s Liberation Balochistan People’s Liberation Front Front) 13, 135 (BPLF) 13, 135 Brass, Paul R. 3, 63, 77, 78n2, 79n11, 185n2 Baloch Liberation Army (BLA) 13, 132, bribery 94–5 134, 135 Brown, Michael 5 Baloch Students Organization (BSO) 13, BSEHR (Bangladesh Society for the 136 Enforcement of Human Rights) 147 Index 189 BSO (Baloch Students Organization) 13, mobilization, integrating 3–7; and 136 internal conflict, theories 5–7 Bugti, Nawab Akbar 131, 132, 133, 135 colonialism 41, 42 Buragohain, Bhimkanta 53, 57n9 combined nationalism 44 Burqa (veil) 29, 32 communal violence 164 Buzan, Barry 57n2 Communist Party of China 46 Communist Party of India 14, 161, 166 Central Intelligence Agency 169 Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist (CPN- Central Military Commission, Nepal 173 M) 172, 173, 174 Ceylon 102; see also Sri Lanka Communist party of Nepal-Unity Centre CFA (ceasefire agreement), Sri Lanka 112, 172 118 Congress Party, India: and Assam 55–6, Chakma, Barun Kumar 148 57n2; and Kashmir 17, 24; and Punjab Chakma, Kampan 148 10, 61, 69, 72, 77; soft authoritarianism Chakma, Rinku 148 55–6, 57n2 Chakma, Subarna 148 Conner, Walker 4, 43 Chakraborty, Eshani 144–5 CPI (Maoist) group 167 Chandigarh, Punjab 62, 67 Chhattisgarh, Naxals of 165–6, 175n5 Daimary, Mithinga 52, 53 China 46, 82 dalams (mobile fighting units) 168, 174 Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Bangladesh Dal Khalsa (Army of the Khalsa) 68 13, 143–60, 182, 183; Affairs Ministry Dam Dami Taksal (Sikh seminary) 68, 70, Advisory Committee 155; causes of 71, 74 conflict 144–9; CHT Accord deinstitutionalisation, in Kashmir 24–6 Implementation Committee 151; CHT Deobandi Islam 163, 170 Development Board 147, 151; CHT deras (religious headquarters) 75, 76 Land Dispute resolution Commission Dhemaji College, ULFA bomb explosion 152; CHT Regional Council (CHTRC) (2004) 53 150, 153; future steps 154–6; Hill Dibru-Saikhowa national park 54 District Council 150; Hill People 145, Dihingia, Tankeshwar 47 146, 147, 150, 157n11; Hill Students Dima Halong Daoga/Dima Halim Daogah Council 148; Hill Watch Human Rights 88 Forum 148; human rights violations Distressed Debtors Relief Act 1950 148; Jumma (indigenous people of (AJKNC) 19 CHT) 143, 144, 146, 148–9; National District Development Councils (DDCs), Committee on the CHT 149, 157n15; Sri Lanka 104, 107 Peace Accord (1997) 149–54, 155; Dogra population, Kashmir 19; Regime 23 physical features 156n2, 157n9; Dostum, Abdul Rashid 169 Regulation of 1900 156n6; Sametinget, Norwegian model 155, 156; as “Totally Eelam People’s Liberation Front (EPRLF) Excluded Area” 144; see also 105, 116 Bangladesh Eelam Revolutionary Organization of Choudhury, Deepak 52–3 Students (EROS) 105 Choudhury, Sasha 54 elites 3, 5, 178; Kashmir 8, 24–6, 32; Chowdhury, Sajeda 151 political culture 38n9; Sri Lanka 101, CHT see Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), 103, 106; tension emerging from Bangladesh political competition between ethnic and CHTDLRC (CHT Land Dispute resolution central state elites 2, 178, 184–5 Commission) 152 EPRLF (Eelam People’s Liberation Front) CHTRC (CHT Regional Council) 150, 153 105, 116 Cline, Lawrence 10, 11 EROS (Eelam Revolutionary Organization Cold War 162 of Students) 105 collective mobilization: “competing” ethnic appeals 4 theories of ethnic identity and collective ethnic attachments 164–5 190 Index ethnic cleansing 117 Grishchenko, Sergei 50 ethnic identity see identity, ethnic gurdwaras 70–1, 75, 76 ethnic mobilization 178; Assam 42, 43, 46; Gurr, Ted 7 and ethnic identity, “competing” Guru Granth Sahib (Sikh holy book) 71 theories 3–7; identity as necessary but Guru-Panth, ideology of 71 insufficient factor for 3, 178, 184; Guwahati, grenade explosion (2008) 54 tension emerging from political Gwadar Port issue, Balochistan (Pakistan) competition between ethnic and central 12, 126, 129–31 state elites 2, 178, 184–5 ethnic nationalism/ethnonationalism 1; Hale, Henry 4 Assam 42, 43–4, 45, 49; Kashmir 22, Haragopal, Akkiraju 161 27, 36; Sri Lanka 102, 104, 107 “hard power,” Kashmir 30 ethnic outbidding 3, 10, 11, 15n2, 181 Harkat-ul-Ansar (HuA), Kashmir 29, 32 ethnic subnational insurgencies: Harkat-ul-Mujahideen (Pakistan-backed comparative trajectories 182–4; Kashmiri group) 171 permissive structural/permissive Hasina, Sheikh 13, 54, 149, 150, 152 condition for 179–82 HDC (Hill District Council), Bangladesh ethnonational heterogeneity 43 150 ethnonationalist insurgency and violence, Hekmatyar, Gulbuddin 169 cases 7–15 Hill District Council (HDC), Bangladesh ethnoscapes 42 150 ethno-secular nationalism 37 Himachal Pradesh, India 18 Evans, Alexander 38n6 Hindus: in Kashmir 18, 19, 21, 23, 34; Exit Control List, Balochistan 139 nationalism 24; and Sikhs 79n8 Hizb-ul-Mujahedeen see HuM (Hizb-ul- factionalism: in Assam 9, 50–5; in Punjab Mujahedeen) 68; in Tripura 90 Hold High the Bright Red Banner of Fair, Christine 172 Marxism-Leninism-Maoism (CPI) 167 Fazlullah, Maulana 171 Hoth, Abdul Ghaffar 140n9 federalism 2, 63, 78, 104, 181, 182; HuA (Harkat-ul-Ansar), Kashmir 29, 32 asymmetric federalism principle 32 hukamnama (religious edict) 75, 78n3 Federally Administered Tribal Areas HuM (Hizb-ul-Mujahedeen) 8, 17, 27, 31; (FATA), Pakistan 171, 172 ascendancy of, and Islamist agenda 28–9 Federal Party, Sri Lanka 106, 107 Human Rights Council, UN 121 “free-rider” problem 5, 15n3 fun 73, 79n15 identity, ethnic: “competing” theories of fundamentalism (religious), Kashmir 23–4, ethnic identity and collective 29 mobilization, integrating 3–7; instrumentalist perspective 23; Kashmiri Gandhi, Indira Priyadarshini (Mrs Gandhi) 23; nature 3–4; as necessary but 8, 9, 25, 63, 67, 167, 180, 185n2; insufficient factor for mobilization 3, assassination 69 178, 184; primordialist perspective Gandhi, Rajiv 29, 32, 69, 109 22–3, 31; see also national identity Ganguly, Sumit 21, 22, 25 ideological insurgencies 161–77; ‘branding George, A.N. 15n1, 98n1 and banding’ 162; insurgent ideology, Gill, K.P.S. 72, 73 recruitment and political strategy 163–5; Gogoi, Pradip 57n9 Maoist movement 161, 172–4; Gogoi, Tarun 53 Naxalites, India 14, 165–8, 183; role of Golden Temple complex, Punjab 10, 68, ideology 162–3; Taliban, Pakistani 69, 71 14–15, 169–72 Gorkha Tiger Force 89 improvised explosive devices (IEDs) 166 Goswami, Uddipana 83 India: army doctrine 96; conflict with Green Revolution, Punjab 9, 66, 67, 73, Pakistan 18, 19, 21, 28–9, 37n1; 79n11 Constitution 19, 20, 38n4; Index 191 decolonization 67; insurgencies in see JUI-F see Jamiat-e-Ulema-e-Islam (Party Assam, India; Kashmir, India; Khalistan of Scholars of Islam), Balochistan movement (Punjab, India); Naxalites, Jumma (indigenous people of CHT) 13, India; Northeast India, insurgencies; 143, 144, 146, 148–9, 182 Maoists 161–2; national identity JVP (People’s Liberation Front), Sri Lanka 179–80; nationalism see nationalism; 110, 111 Partition (1947) 17, 18–19, 23, 24, 62, 144; post-independent 57n1; United Kabir, A. H. Monjurul 145 Nations Military Observer Group 38n6; Kabul, capture by Taliban 169 see also Andhra Pradesh, Indian state; Kachin Independence Army 46 Indian peace initiative (1987–9); New Kamptapur Liberation Organisation 88 Delhi, India Kaplan, R. D. 129, 130 Indian National Congress 23 Kaptai Hydro-Electric Dam, Pakistan 144 Indian peace initiative (1987–9) 109–10 Karbi Longri North Cachar Hills Indo-Lanka Accord (1987) 109, 110, 117, Liberation Front 89 122n2 Karbi National Volunteers 88–9 Indo-Myanmar border 57n16 Karuna Amman 118–19 instrumentalism/instrumentalists 3, 4; and Kashmir, India 7, 180; changing face 26; Kashmir 23, 38n8 civilian deaths 31; and Congress Interim Self-Governing Authority (ISGA), government 38n9; Constituent Assembly Sri Lanka 114 38n4; de-institutionalisation 25; Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI 27, 46 democracy, subversion 25; Dogra Iran 134 population 19, 23; elite consensus, ISGA (Interim Self-Governing Authority), breakdown 24–6; ethnic identity 23; Sri Lanka 114 fraudulent elections (1987) 27; “hard” and ISI (Inter-Services Intelligence) 27, 46 “soft” power 30; Hindus 18, 19, 21, 23, Islamabad 12, 37n1, 128 34; historical background 18–20; Islamic National Front 90 instrumentalist perspective 23, 38n8; Islamic Revolutionary Front 90 Instrument of Accession 37n2, 38n3; insurgency 7–8, 17–40; Islamist agenda Jaffna Peninsula 109, 112 28–9, 35; Kargil crisis (1999) 30; Jagmohan, Governor (Kashmir) 32 Kashmir Valley 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 27, Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM), Kashmir 29, 33, 34, 35; landowners 19–20; moderate 32, 33, 171 nationalists, fall of (mid-1980s to 1989) Jamiat-e-Ulema-e-Islam (Party of Scholars 20–1; Muslims 18, 19, 21, 23, 30, 33, 34, of Islam), Balochistan 127, 133–4 38n3; nationalism see Kashmiriyat Jamiat Ulema ul-Islam (JUI) 170 (Kashmiri nationalism); and New Delhi Jamil, Ishtiaq 13, 14 20, 22, 24, 29, 30; and Partition of India Jammu, Kashmir 7, 33, 38n9; Constituent (1947) 17, 18–19, 23, 24; peasants 19; Assembly 38n4; State election (1951) primordialist perspective 22–3, 31; and 37n2 Punjab 18, 19, 30, 32, 34; radical Islamist Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front see groups 27; resolution of conflicts, JKLF (Jammu and Kashmir Liberation methods 31–6; revolt (1989) 27; Front) separatism 21–4, 25, 28, 29; Sikhs 23; Jan Sangh Party 63 socioeconomic factors in conflict 25–6; jathedars 72, 76 special status within Indian Union 19, 20, Jat Sikhs 67, 73 30; State election (1951) 37n2; strategy, JeM (Jaish-e-Mohammed), Kashmir 29, evolution 17, 29–31; terrorism 38n11; 32, 33, 171 triggers for conflict (breakdown of elite Jinnah, Mohammad Ali 127, 170, 180 consensus and deinstitutionalization) 24–6 JKLF (Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Kashmiri Independence Movement 20 Front) 8, 37, 38n5; rise and fall 26–8; Kashmiriyat (Kashmiri nationalism) 22, secular ideology 28 23, 24, 35, 36 JUI (Jamiat Ulema ul-Islam) 170 Khalid, Shazia 132 192 Index Khalistan Commando Force 70, 71 Mann,, Gurinder Singh 78n2 Khalistan Liberation Force 70 Mann, Simranjit Singh 77 Khalistan movement (Punjab, India): Manochahal, Gurbachan Singh 72 cessation of conflict 72–5; genesis of Maoist Communist Centre (MCC) 161, conflict 66–70; Green Revolution 9, 66, 166 67, 73, 79n11; religio-political Maoist movement: Andhra Pradesh 161; structures 70–2; structural change and Nepal 14, 172–4 new political compulsions 9–10, 61–81; Mao Tse Tung 163 see also Punjab (India) Marri, Nawab Khair Bux 131, 132, 135 Khalsa Action Committee 75 martyrdom 171 Khalsa Sikhs 62, 67, 71, 77, 78n3 Marwaris, attacks on (Assam) 47 Khan, Adeel 12–13 Marx, Karl 86 Khan, Amanullah 28 Masood, Ahmad Shah 169 Khan, Ayub 131, 180 mass political culture 38n9 Khan, Ismail 169 MCC (Maoist Communist Centre) 161, Khan, Kachkool Ali 135, 139 166 Kohli, Atul 184 McChrystal, Stanley 171 Kumar, Pramod 73, 76, 78n2 McGarry, John 185n4 Kumar, Praveen 90 McKeown, Timothy 15n1 McLeod, W.H. 75 Ladakh, Kashmir 18, 19, 33, 34 Meghalaya, Northeast India 10, 82, 90–1 Larma, Jyotirindra Bodhiprio 147, 153 Mehsud, Baitullah 171 Larma, Manobendra Narayan 145, 147, Meitei groups, Northern India 86, 89 157n10 memorandum of understanding (MoU), Sri Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), Pakistan-backed Lankan peace process 113 Kashmiri group 29, 32, 33, 171 Mengal, Attaullah 128–9, 131, 135 Lawson, Alastair 176n12 MEP (People’s United Front), Sri Lanka Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eeelam see 103–4 LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Metcalf, Barbara 170 Eeelam) militarism 118 Line of Control (LOC), Kashmir 18 Ministry of Religious Affairs (MRA), Literary Society of Assam 46 Balochistan 133 Lone, Abdul Ghani 35 Mizoram, Northeast India 10, 82, 90–1, Longowal, Sant Harchand Singh 69, 77 143 LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eeelam) MMA (United Action Forum), Balochistan 11–12, 101–23; on consequences of war 133 112; as dominant Tamil militant group moderate nationalism 20–1, 36, 55 102; informal peace talks (1989–90) Mohajirs (North Indian Muslim 111; militarism 110, 112, 118, 120; immigrants), Balochistan 128, 180 military defeat 12, 122, 183; nature and Mohsin, Amena 153 specificities116 –19; and peace process monistic nationalism 118 110, 113–14, 115; secessionism 101; Movement against State Oppression 69 uncompromising nature of 117; see also Mudalidharan, Vinayagamurthy 118 Sri Lanka MUF (Muslim United Front) 8, 17, 20 mujahideen (strugglers for jihad) 169 Maddya Lemuchari, Bangladesh 147 multiethnic coexistence doctrine 43 madrassahs 170, 172 Musharraf, General Pervez 129, 131, 132, Mahanta, Heerakjyoti 51 133, 135, 138, 139, 171 Mahanta, Prafulla 48, 52 Muslim League 170 Majumdar, Charu 166 Muslims: in Kashmir 18, 19, 21, 23, 30, Malik, Rehman 134 33, 34, 38n3; in Sri Lanka 103 Malik, Yasin 17, 28, 38n5 Muslim United Front see MUF (Muslim managed disorder 72 United Front) Manipur, Northeast India 10, 82, 89–90, 91 Myanmar (Burma) 82, 86, 87, 143 Index 193 Nagaland, Northeast India 10, 82, 86–8, 9/11 terrorist attacks 30, 134 91, 92, 98n4; see also Nationalist NNC (Naga National Council) 86–7 Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN) Noman, Omer 127 Nagaland Baptist Church Convention Northeast India: Arunachal Pradesh 10, (NBCC) 93 82, 90–1, 116–19; Indian response Nagaland Peace Council 93 (reconciliation and counter- Naga Mothers’ Association 93 insurgency) 91–7; insurgencies 10, Naga National Council (NNC) 86–7 82–100; intra-ethnic alliances 86; list Naga People’s Movement for Human of insurgencies 84–5; Manipur 10, 82, Rights 93 89–90, 91; Meghalaya 10, 82, 90–1; Nagas 11, 86, 87, 92 Mizoram 10, 82, 90–1, 143; Nagaland Naga Students’ Federation 93 10, 82, 86–8, 91, 92; overall pattern of Naga Women’s Union of Manipur 93 insurgency 83–6; physical and Nairn, Tom 47 historical environments 82–3; Najibullah, Sheikh 169 prospects 97–8; Seven Sisters 82, 83; NAP (National Awami (People’s) Party), small-scale operations by multiple Balochistan 127, 128 groups 97–8; sub-clans 83, 86; tribal Narain, Lala Jagat 68 groups 83, 88; Tripura 10, 83, 90, 143; National Awami (People’s) Party (NAP), violence, trends in 91; see also Assam, Balochistan 127, 128 India National Democratic Front of Bodoland North East Minority Front 90 (NDFB) 88 North West Frontier Province (NWFP), National Front, Assam 49 Balochistan 127, 136 national identity 4, 11; in Bangladesh 181; NP (National Party), Balochistan 13, 136 in India 179–80; see also identity, ethnic NSCN (Nationalist Socialist Council of nationalism: armed, in Assam 45–8; Nagaland) 46, 86, 87, 93, 97 Bangali 145; Bangladeshi 143; NWFP (North West Frontier Province), combined 44; ethnic 22, 27, 36, 42, Balochistan 127, 136 43–4; ethno-secular 37; Hindus 24; in India 32, 45–8; in Kashmir see Oberoi, Harjot Singh 67, 68, 78n7 Kashmiriyat (Kashmiri nationalism); O’Leary, Brendan 185n4, 185n5 moderate 20–1, 36, 55; monistic 118; Omar, Mullah Mohammad 169, 171 religious 22, 37; secular 22, 23, 33; Operation All Clear, Assam (2003) 53, 54 Sinhalese 104; state 145; Tamil 101, Operation Bajrang, Assam (1990) 50 104, 116, 122n1 Operation Bluestar, Punjab (1984) 10, 66, Nationalist Socialist Council of Nagaland 79n12 (NSCN) 46, 86, 87, 93, 97 Operation Flush Out, Assam (2003) 53 National Liberation Front of Tripura 90 Operation Gibraltar, Pakistan (1965) 38n7 National Party (NP), Balochistan 13, 136 Operation Rhino, Assam (1991–1992) 50, nation-building 1, 57n5, 178 51 nation-destroying 1 Operation Woodrose, Punjab (1984) 66 Naxalbari, West Bengal 165 Opposition Enclave (Indian party) 25 Naxalites, India 14, 165–8, 183 NBCC (Nagaland Baptist Church PA (People’s Alliance) 111, 112 Convention) 93 Pahlavi, Shah Mohammad Reza 140n6 NDFB (National Democratic Front of Pakistan: conflict with India 18, 19, 21, Bodoland) 88 28–9, 37n1; Constitution 144; Nehru, Jawaharlal 23, 29, 32, 66, 170 Federally Administered Tribal Areas Nepal 82; Maoist movement 14, 172–4, 182 171, 172; history 139, 180; and New Delhi, India, and Kashmir 8, 20, 22, Kashmir 18, 19, 21; Operation 24, 29, 30 Gibraltar (1965) 38n7; two-nation New-Kahan (Balochistan), raid by theory 21, 33; see also Balochistan paramilitary forces at (2005) 132 (Pakistan), ethnonational insurgency; Nibedon, Nirmal 86, 98n2 Taliban, Pakistani 194 Index Panchayat (local elections), Punjab 32, 74 Pukhtuns (ethnic group in Balochistan) Panch Piaras (Five Beloved) 71 125, 134–5 Panday, Pranab Kumar 13, 14 Punjab (India) 9–10, 180; Akali Dal Pandits, Kashmiri 34 faction 62; anti-state conflict “Panthic Committees” 70, 71, 74 (1980–1992) 61; cabinets, formation Parbatya Chattagram Jana Samhati Samiti and termination (1967 to present) 64–5; (PCJSS), Bangladesh 13, 146, 149, 150, “Emergency” of 1975–7 63; 151, 153, 157n11 factionalism 68; features as state 79n10; Partition of India (1947) 62, 144; and Golden Temple complex 10, 68, 69, 71; Kashmir 17, 18–19, 23, 24 Green Revolution 9, 66, 67, 73, 79n11; Party Constitution (CPI) 167 and Kashmir 18, 19, 30, 32, 34; Party Programme (CPI) 167 Khalistan movement see Khalistan patriotism 1 movement (Punjab, India); Pakistani Paul, T. V. 48, 49 support for insurgents in 37n1; PCG (Peoples’ Consultative Group), redrawing of boundaries (1966) 66; Assam 53, 54, 56 Sikhs 61, 62, 63, 66–7, 182 PCJSS (Parbatya Chattagram Jana Samhati Punjab (India), Khalistan movement see Samiti), Bangladesh 13, 146, 149, 150, Khalistan movement (Punjab, India) 151, 153, 157n11 Punjabis, in Balochistan 128 Peace Accord (1997), Bangladesh 149–54, Punjabiyat (ideology) 66, 67, 79n9 155; new emerging dynamics of conflict Puri, Harish K. 73, 78n2, 79n13, 79n16 following non-implementation 152–4; PWG (People’s War Group), Andhra non-implementation 150–2; political Pradesh 161, 165, 166, 168 changes facilitating 149–50; see also Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Qadir, Abdul 169 Bangladesh Quetta Shura Taliban (QST) 169, 171 Peace Mission 93 People’s Alliance (PA) 111, 112 Rabha, Amitabh 48 Peoples’ Consultative Group (PCG), Rabha, Chandra 48 Assam 53, 54, 56 Rabha National Security Force 88 People’s Liberation Front (JVP), Sri Lanka Rabushka, Alvin 15n2 110, 111 Rahman, Sheikh Mujibur 145 People’s Liberation Organization for Rajagopalan, Swarna 92 Tamil Eelam (PLOTE) 105, 116 Rajapaksa, Mahinda 114, 115 People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL) Rajkhowa, Arabinda 52, 53, 54, 57n9 175n3 Rajkhowa, Rajiv 47 People’s United Liberation Front 88, 90 Ram, Ronki 76 People’s War Group (PWG), Andhra Ramana, P.V. 161 Pradesh 161, 165, 166, 168 Ram Rahim Singh, Baba Gurmeet 75, 76 Pettigrew, Joyce 69, 73, 79n11 Rangghar, Sibsagar (Assam), ULFA Phizo, Angami Zapu 86 movement launched (1979) 44 PLOTE (People’s Liberation Organization Ranjan, Vishwa 176n6 for Tamil Eelam) 105, 116 Rao, Amiya 78n4 PoK 27, 28, 32, 34 Rao, Muppala Lakshman 167 political culture 38n9 Rashid, Ahmad 170 Political Resolution on the International rational-choice theory 5, 6, 7, 15n4 and Domestic Situation (CPI) 167 regional party politics, Assam 45–8 Poohla, Ajit Singh 79n14 relative deprivation theory 7, 10 Premadasa, Ranasinghe 111 religious nationalism 22, 37 primordialism/primordialists 2, 3, 4; and Routray, Bibhu Prasad 95 Kashmir 22–3, 31 process-tracing 2, 15n1 SAA (Somo Adikhar Andolon), Equal PUCL (People’s Union for Civil Liberties) Rights Movement (Bangladesh) 154 175n3 Sahni, Ajai 89, 95 Index 195 Saikia, Hiteswar 50, 52, 95 Singh, Maharaja Hari 19 Saikia, K. N. 52 Singh, Manjit 74 Saikia, Pahi 8–9 Singh, Ranjit 75 Salahuddin, Syed 17, 28, 38n5, 38n12 Singh, V.P. 49 Sametinget, Norwegian model 155, 156 Sinha, S.K. 95 Sant Nirankaris 62, 68, 78n3 Sinhalese nationalism, Sri Lanka 104 sants 74, 75 Sinhalese ruling elites, Sri Lanka 101 Sanyal, Kanu 166 Sirnate, Vasundhara 14 Sarbat Khalsa (community) 71, 72 Sixteen-Point Agreement (1960) 92 Sarb Hind Shiromani Akali Dal (All India Skocpol, Theda 175n2 SAD, SHSAD) 76–7, 78n6 SLFP (Sri Lanka Freedom Party) 11, 106 Sauda, Dera Sacha 76 SLMM (Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission) secessionist insurgency 1, 178; in Assam 113 45; in Sri Lanka 101, 105, 107, 108 social constructivism 5, 6, 7 secular nationalism 22, 23, 33 socio-psychological theories 5, 6, 7 Sema, Kaito (guerrilla commander, NNC) “soft power,” Kashmir 30 87 Somo Adikhar Andolon (SAA), Equal Senanayaka-Chelvanayakam Pact (1967) Rights Movement (Bangladesh) 154 107 South Asian states: causal model of separatism: in Assam 42, 43–5; in Kashmir ethnonationalist insurgency 2, 179; 21–4, 25, 28, 29; in Sri Lanka 107 “centralized” nature 180–1; overview 1 Seshan, T.N. 74, 79n17 South Asia Terrorism Portal (SATP) SGPC (”religious parliament of the Sikhs”) 38n11, 167–8, 176n11 66, 70, 71, 72, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78n6 South Chhattisgarh 165 Shah, G.M. 25 Spinner-Halev, Jeff 6 Sharif, Nawaz 129 Sri Lanka: access to colonial state Sharma, Deepti 7–8 institutions and resources, competition Shastri, Amita 108 for 103; background to insurgency Shekhar, Chandra 49 102–5; causes of insurgency 105–8; Shepsle, Kenneth 15n2 Census Report (1981) 102; Shillong Agreement (1975) 92 centralization 181; CFA (ceasefire Shimla Agreement (India and Pakistan) 20 agreement) 112, 118; civil war 12, 108, Shining Path guerrillas of Peru 172 114; constitutional revision (’Thirteenth Shiromani Akali Dal (Sikh political party) Amendment’) 110; cultural see Akali Dal (Sikh political party) discrimination, language rights 106; Shiromani Akali Dal Panthic Morcha District Development Councils 104, (SAD Front of the Sikh Community) 77 107; economic contributions to conflict Shiromani Gurdwara Prabandhak 105–6, 108; elites 101, 103, 106; ethnic Committee 78n6 communities 102; ethnic nationalism Sikhs: gurdwaras 70–1, 75, 76; and 102, 104, 107; ethnic riots (1983) 105, Hinduism 79n8; identity 67–8; Jat Sikhs 107; Federal Party 106, 107; Indian 67, 73; in Kashmir 23; Khalsa Sikhs 62, peace initiative (1987–9) 109–10; and 67, 71, 77, 78n3; in Punjab 61, 62, 63, Indian Tamils 102–3; Indo-Lanka 66–8, 182; sants 74, 75, 77 Accord (1987) 109, 110, 117, 122n2; Sindhis 180 informal peace talks (1989–1990) 111; Singh, Akal Takht Jathedar Bhai Ranjit 76 internationalization of conflict 108, 115; Singh, Baba Gurmeet Ram Rahim 75, 76 languages 11, 103–4, 106; LTTE and Singh, Baba Thakur 74 Tamil insurgency 11–12, 101–23, 181; Singh, Bhai Mokham 70 majoritarian political order 104, 106; Singh, Gobind (Guru), 1666–1720 62, 71, multi-religious nature 11, 103; Muslims 75, 78n3 103; negotiation attempts 108–15; Singh, Gurarpal 72 Norwegian attempts at a negotiated Singh, Gurmit Ram Rahim 62 settlement (2002 onwards) 113–15; Oslo Singh, Joginder 70 talks (2002) 113, 114; peace talks 196 Index Sri Lanka continued Tripura, Northeast India 10, 83, 90, 143 (1994–5) 111–12; present dynamics of Tsunami (December 2004) 114 conflict 119–22; secessionist insurgency TTP (Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan) 169, 171, 105, 107, 108; separatism 107; Sinhalese 175, 176n8 and Tamil society 116; Sinhalese TUJS (Tripura Upajati Juba Samiti) 90 nationalism 104; Sri Lankan Tamils 102; TULF (Tamil United Liberation Front) Tamil nationalism 101, 104, 116, 122n1; 104, 106, 107, 116 Thimpu Talks and Principles (1985) Tully, Mark 69 108–9; United National Party government two-level autonomy 33, 35 103, 104; youth insurgencies (1971 and two-nation theory, Pakistan 21, 33 1987–9) 106 Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) 11, 106 ulema (clerics) 170 Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission (SLMM) ULFA (United Liberation Front of Assam) 113 8–9, 183; anti-imperialist agenda 45; state-building 1, 178 assassinations and violence 46–7, 48, Strategy and Tactics of the Indian 52, 54; ethnonationalism 45; guerrillas Revolution (CPI) 167 86; and insurgency in Assam 41–60; SULFA (’Surrender ULFA’) 9, 51, 56, 95 philosophy/ideology 44, 45, 56; rebels Sunni Islam 163 51; response to activities of 47; Surrendered United Liberation Front of separatist movement 42; strategic Asom (SULFA) 9, 51, 56, 95 capabilities 97; writings 57n12, 57n13; Swu, Isak 87 see also Assam, India UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Taju, T.S. 50 Scientific and Cultural Organization) talib (student) 169 150 Taliban, Pakistani 14–15, 163, 169–72, 183 UNF (United National Front), Sri Lanka Tamil Eelam 104 113 Tamil Eelam Liberation Organization United Islamic Liberation Army 90 (TELO) 104–5, 116 United Kingdom, and Assam 41 Tamil National Alliance (TNA) 121–2 United Liberation Front of Barak Valley 89 Tamil nationalism, Sri Lanka 101, 104, United National Front (UNF), Sri Lanka 113 116, 122n1 United National Liberation Front (UNLF) Tamil United Front 104 89, 94 Tamil United Liberation Front (TULF) United National Party (UNP), Sri Lanka 104, 106, 107, 116 11, 103, 104, 106, 107 Task Force for Rehabilitation of Returnee United Nations Convention on Genocide Refugees 151 (1948) 149 Tehrik-e-Nafaz-e-Shariat-e-Muhammadi United Nations Educational, Scientific and 171 Cultural Organization (UNESCO) 150 Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) 169, 171, United Nations Military Observer Group, 175, 176n8 India 38n6 TELO (Tamil Eelam Liberation United People’s Democratic Front Organization) 104–5, 116 (UPDF)), Bangladesh 14, 148, 153, 154 terrorism 38n11, 69; see also 9/11 terrorist United Reservationist Minority Council of attacks Assam (URMCA0 48 Terrorist and Disruptive Activities United States 134–5; see also 9/11 terrorist (Prevention) Act, Assam 52 attacks Theiss-Morse, Elizabeth 6 UNLF (United National Liberation Front) Thimpu Talks and Principles (1985) 108–9 89, 94 Tiwa National Revolutionary Force 88 UNP (United National Party), Sri Lanka TNA (Tamil National Alliance) 121–2 11, 103, 104, 106, 107 Tohra, Gurcharan Singh 74, 77 UNPO (Unrepresented Nations and transactional politics 184 People’s Organization) 147, 150, 151, Tremblay, Chowdhari Reeta 32 157n16 Index 197 UPDF (United People’s Democratic Wallace, Paul 70, 78n2 Front), Bangladesh 14, 148, 153, 154 Wangdi, Sonam 166 URMCA (United Reservationist Minority war crimes 121 Council of Assam) 48 War on Terror 135 Uyangoda, Jayadeva 11 Weiner, Myron 38n9 Widmalm, Sten 25, 26, 38n10 Van Dyke, Virginia 9–10, 78n2 Wu Bangguo 129 Varshney, Ashutosh 22, 36 Vidhan Sabha (Punjab legislative Yandaboo treaty (1826) 57n11 assembly) 61 Yusuf, Huma 172 Volkan, V.D. 164 Zia, Begum Khaleda 149 Wæver, Ole 57n2 Zia ul-Haq, General 128, 139 eBooks Taylors Francis from Taylor & Francis eBooks Helping you to choose the right eBooks for your Library

Add to your library's digital Choose from a range of subject collection today with packages or create your own!

Taylor & Francis eBooks. Benefits for you We have over 50,000 eBooks ■ Free MARC records in the Humanities, Social ■ COUNTER-compliant usage statistics Sciences, Behavioural Sciences, ■ Flexible purchase and pricing options Built Environment and Law, ■ 70% approx of our eBooks are now from leading imprints, including DRM-free. Routledge, Focal Press and Benefits for your user Psychology Press. ■ Off-site, anytime access via Athens or referring URL ■ Print or copy pages or chapters Free Trials ■ Full content search Available ■ Bookmark, highlight and annotate text We offer free trials to qualifying academic, ■ Access to thousands of pages of corporate and government customers. quality research at the click of a button.

eCollections eFocus Choose from 20 different subject We have 16 cutting-edge interdisciplinary eCollections, including: collections, including: Development Studies ;5-TJ The Environment

Health Studies Islam

Law Korea Middle East Studies Urban Studies JLM* J

For more information, pricing enquiries or to order a free trial, please contact your local sales team: UK/Rest of World: [email protected] USA/Canada/Latin America: [email protected] East/Southeast Asia: [email protected] India: [email protected]

I www.tandfebooks.com