It’s easier to hate General Pervez Musharraf and close your mind on the coming summit than give the man a chance. He has all it takes to make you cynical of him and the entire baggage of ideology and statecraft that he is expected to bring. He has sabotaged a peace process before, has a soft spot for the Taliban and jehadis in Kashmir. He also holds democracy and civil society in contempt.
In January 1999, less than a month before Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s Lahore bus journey, he went with Nawaz Sharif to inspect the Siachen front.
He was all praise for the bus diplomacy there. “The chances of war with India now are zero per cent,” he had said. There were huge sighs of relief on both sides of the Radcliffe Line. If only they knew. Musharraf’s men were already on the heights overlooking Kargil, using the bunkers abandoned in the winter by Indian troops to sort out the logistics for a summer campaign against India.
Within six months, he earned international infamy as the man who took the two nuclear powers of South Asia to the brink of a disastrous war. But he emerged from it stronger. He banks on the surprise element to achieve his objectives. But as a strategist he is a disaster. He hasn’t understood that though terrorism may help in cornering India in the short run, in the long run it tends to backfire, because a negotiated solution to the Kashmir problem is incompatible with the expectations of jehadis. He has also played himself into New Delhi’s hands. “It’s up to Vajpayee to make or break him,” said the first mohajir Chief of Army Staff of Pakistan, General Aslam Beg. If the summit is not seen to help Pakistan’s designs in Kashmir, Musharraf might end up making history of a different kind.