Unwilling Slaves, Pakistan’s Strategic Choices in the 1990s
By Talat Farooq
Paramount, Karachi
ISBN: 978-9692103794
328pp.

The relationship between Pakistan and the United States has always been transactional, albeit unequal. Soon after Independence, Pakistan found itself dependent on the US for military and economic aid to keep its head above water and the Indian threat at bay. This dependence also encouraged Pakistan to sign the Mutual Defence Agreement in 1954, join the Southeast Asia Treaty Organisation (SEATO) later that year and participate in the 1995 Baghdad Pact, the precursor to the Central Treaty Organisation (CENTO).

In 1962, the grave crisis erupting from the shooting down over Moscow of an American spy plane — which had taken off from a secret Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) airbase at Badaber village near Peshawar — earned Pakistan the long-lasting enmity of the Soviet Union. When Pakistan’s then president, Gen Ayub Khan, visited the Soviet Union in 1965 to mend fences, the US downgraded Pakistan’s position from strategic to tactical ally.

For Pakistan, it has always been a difficult balancing act.

The title of Unwilling Slaves: Pakistan’s Strategic Choices in the 1990s, authored by political and international relations academic Dr Talat Farooq, is taken from a tongue-in-cheek comment by Lt Gen Hamid Gul about the US wanting to “play masters.”

“We sometimes play slaves,” the former chief of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) had said, “but we are not always willing slaves.”

A meticulously researched book covers the background to the waxing and waning of Pakistan-US ties

This means that Pakistan goes along with the charade and — as per the advice of Chinese leadership — tries to appease the US at the tactical level, while continuing to subtly, defiantly, squeeze in its own strategic goals. This approach has led to frequent US accusations of Pakistan playing a double game.

To be fair, Pakistan has not always been unwilling. For instance, in the 1980s, the ISI fully backed the CIA plan to internationalise the Afghan resistance. However, in meeting its objectives in Afghanistan, the US turned a blind eye to Pakistan’s pursuit of its own regional security imperatives.

The 1990s were a different ballgame altogether. In this period of great flux, the Iran-Iraq war had just ground to a halt, the last Soviet troops had left Afghanistan, the Iron Curtain had come smashing down, the Berlin Wall had been decimated, Iraq invaded Kuwait and a US-led coalition launched a counter-assault to drive Iraq back. The US emerged as the world’s sole superpower and asserted itself through proclamation of the New World Order.

Bill Clinton’s presidency from 1993 to 2001 thus forms the principal focus of Farooq’s book. Choosing to attend to America’s domestic politics and economy, the Clinton administration washed its hands off Afghanistan and its South Asian interests boiled down to two: foster better relations with India at Pakistan’s expense, and prevent Pakistan from nuclearisation.

This attempt to rein Pakistan in had two flaws. One, it failed to recognise how immensely important it was for Pakistan to attain nuclear parity with India. Two, by imposing sanctions, the US squandered whatever leverage it had in “modifying Pakistan’s behaviour.”

Farooq’s meticulously researched book amply covers the background to the waxing and waning of Pakistan-US ties. A third presence lurks in the dynamics: India. Unsympathetic to Pakistan’s Indocentric viewpoint, the US readily accepts India’s fixation on China.

After October 1990, US aid amounting to 700 million dollars, pledged for 1988-94, was suspended. The transfer of 28 F16 aircraft and other military equipment — already paid for — was halted. This left a particularly bitter taste in the mouth, especially since Pakistan was forced to continue paying for services such as parking charges for the planes. Senator Larry Pressler’s later posture showed a definite Indian tilt, aided as it was by generous donations from the Indian-American community to his re-election campaign.

Following the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan by February 1989, the Americans — as Gen Pervez Musharraf had lamented — “left us in the lurch.” The pieces to be picked up included three million Afghan refugees, for whom a stable Afghanistan was needed, which Pakistan tried to manage in its own way.

The heavily armed Pakhtun presence at our north-western border and tonnes of abandoned US/ Soviet Union military equipment were redirected to Kashmir in aid of the ongoing militancy there, thereby killing two birds with one stone — although this invited charges of state-sponsored terrorism, which Pakistan skilfully managed to avoid.

In terms of Pakistan’s strategic choices, three aspects became intricately interlinked: Pakistan’s nuclear weapons and their delivery systems, the Taliban and Kashmir. The book adequately covers these issues from all perspectives.

Also, by interviewing principal actors on both sides of the divide, the author gives a rare glimpse into the mindsets that drove the policy decisions. While not justifying anything, she highlights Pakistani policymakers’ thought processes that saw such steps as vital to the country’s survival.

On the emergence of the Taliban as a formidable force, US policy was ambivalent. Pakistan, however, saw the Taliban as an opportunity to further its foreign policy and security goals. As Farooq highlights, Pakistan’s Foreign Office was against recognising the Taliban in 1997, but was goaded into it by an enthusiastic ISI.

The book also discusses the ill-advised, ill-thought-out, ambiguous and flawed terminology of “strategic military intimidation” and “strategic defiance” as used by the Pakistan Army chief in the context of the Gulf crisis of 1990-91, and “strategic depth” in Afghanistan’s context.

With India opening up its economy in the early 1990s, the US gravitated towards it at the expense of Pakistan, despite then American president Clinton taking care to de-hyphenate the Indo-Pak construct, which dealt with Pakistan and India as a zero sum game.

A security dimension was introduced with the signing of the US-India security agreement of January 1995, which established a defence policy forum for reviewing post-Cold War strategies and enhancing military-to-military contacts. This, along with the kicking-in of the Pressler Amendment that imposed sanctions on Pakistan because of its nuclear ambitions, deepened Pakistan’s anxiety.

The Pressler Amendment of 1984, long derided in Pakistan since it terminated all forms of US military assistance programmes, was actually a softer version of the Symington (1976) and Glenn (1977) Amendments. The loophole that the Pressler Amendment provided — that is, presidential certification that Pakistan did not possess, nor was developing, a nuclear device — served Pakistan well till the latter’s help was no longer needed in Afghanistan.

After October 1990, US aid amounting to 700 million dollars, pledged for 1988-94, was suspended. The transfer of 28 F16 aircraft and other military equipment — already paid for — was halted. This left a particularly bitter taste in the mouth, especially since Pakistan was forced to continue paying for services such as parking charges for the planes. Senator Larry Pressler’s later posture showed a definite Indian tilt, aided as it was by generous donations from the Indian-American community to his re-election campaign.

Though the US wasn’t apparently too concerned about India’s nuclear ambitions, Pakistan was. In April 1998, Pakistan had officially notified at least 15 countries, notably the US, about India’s impending nuclear tests. Yet, when the tests did occur on May 11 and 13, the sole focus of the US was to restrain Pakistan from following suit. The US didn’t — perhaps couldn’t — appreciate Pakistan’s fixation on India, which left Pakistan little choice but to conduct its own tests later the same month.

Three back-to-back events — Pakistan’s response to India’s nuclear tests in May 1998, the Kargil War of mid-1999 and the military coup of October 1999 — further alienated the US, so much so that when Clinton visited South Asia in 2000, he spent five days in India and barely five hours in Islamabad.

In Farooq’s detailed analyses, what emerges from the pages of Unwilling Slaves is a cat-and-mouse game, in which the mouse tries to see how much it can get away with. Another aspect subtly brought out is the US use of aid as an instrument of coercion. Its stoppage in the 1990s, however, backfired, resulting in diminished American leverage.

The book’s concluding line sums it up best: “Pakistan continues to pay the price for its strategic choices in the 1990s. So does the United States.”

The reviewer is a retired rear admiral of the Pakistan Navy.
He blogs at www.pervaizasghar.com

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, June 25th, 2023