by Vali Nasr
Already in 2009, half the American diplomatic mission in Pakistan worked on intelligence and counterterrorism rather than diplomacy or development. Our consulate in Peshawar was basically bricks shielding antennas. And it paid big dividends. The CIA collected critical intelligence in Pakistan that made possible drone strikes on al-Qaeda targets and on more than one occasion prevented a terror strike in the West. The Obama administration began carrying out drone strikes in Pakistan on an industrial scale, decimating al-Qaeda’s command-and-control structure and crippling the organization.22 Even with all the Pakistani double-dealing and foot dragging going on, there was still cooperation between the CIA and the ISI on al-Qaeda, and everything the administration claimed by way of success against al-Qaeda depended on it.23
But hunting terrorists was not popular in Pakistan, and drone strikes in particular angered Pakistanis. In public the authorities denied making any deal with the United States, but it was obvious to citizens that the drones flew with their knowledge and even cooperation. Pakistanis thought the drones were daily violating their country’s sovereignty, showing it to be feeble and defenseless. There were wild rumors about collateral damage, civilians dying unnecessarily as drones targeted suspected terrorists. It did not matter that drones killed many terrorists, including TTP chieftain Baitullah Mehsud, the notorious jihadi who had claimed responsibility for scores of bombing attacks on civilians and was believed to have killed the popular former prime minister Benazir Bhutto in December 2007. The anger would only get worse as the number of drone attacks grew through 2009 and beyond.
The “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy around drones suited Pakistani leaders but had a corrosive effect on U.S.-Pakistan relations. We knew that the drone issue was a problem on TV talk shows and in Pakistan’s big cities, but our hands were tied. There was a case to be made for the program—in the places where the drone strikes were actually happening, up in the FATA, they were less of a provocation. There the locals knew exactly where the missiles were landing and on whom, and the locals had no love for many of those being targeted. But drones were a deeply classified topic in the U.S. government. You could not talk about them in public, much less discuss who they were hitting and with what results. Embassy staffers took to calling drones “Voldemorts” after the villain in the Harry Potter series, Lord Voldemort, “he who must not be named.”
By 2012, drones had become a potent political issue in Pakistan. The populist politician and former cricket star Imran Khan built a powerful political movement in part around protesting drone strikes, which he argued were responsible for growing extremist violence inside Pakistan. Drones then had two sets of targets: “high-value” ones, meaning known al-Qaeda leaders, and “signature targets,” which meant concentrations of suspected bad guys—or what some in the Pentagon called MAMs (for “military-aged males”). Most of the controversy revolved around whether drone strikes on MAMs were really eliminating terrorists or killing civilians and producing anti-American fervor. Pakistani intelligence was able to exploit the controversy—when drones started targeting Taliban fighters in 2011, the ISI started fueling anti-drone opposition in a bid to force the United States to agree to a more limited target list.
At this time Pakistan asked repeatedly for joint ownership of the drone program, which meant we would work together on gathering intelligence (previously intelligence was gathered by the CIA and then selectively shared with Pakistan) and operating the drones. They also asked if we would sell them drones; Pakistanis would not object if drones killing terrorists had Pakistani markings on them. They also suggested we let them hit the targets given to drones with their F-16 fighter jets. The CIA’s answer every time was no. We will not sell Pakistan drones, jointly operate them, or let them use their planes to hit the same targets. The program would remain “American.” And as such it would invite anti-Americanism.
We knew from early 2009 that the drone problem meant the intelligence relationship with Pakistan was headed for trouble. During my early days working with Holbrooke, when we were crafting a new Pakistan policy, one of Holbrooke’s deputies asked him, “If we are going to seriously engage shouldn’t we make some changes to the drone policy, perhaps back off a bit?” Holbrooke replied, “Don’t even go there. Nothing is going to change.” We had to build ties despite the drag the drone program had on building normal relations with Pakistan.
Holbrooke believed all along that by showing Pakistan a road map to a deeper relationship with America you could distract attention from the intelligence relationship. The key to winning over Pakistan was simply giving Pakistan more (much more) aid for longer (far longer), in order to change the dynamic of the relationship through economic engagement. If Pakistani leaders had a good story to tell their people, the CIA’s job would become easier, and in time Pakistan would become vested in a different relationship with America. Average Pakistanis had to see a benefit in having a relationship with America, and in 2009 they didn’t. It is easy to be angry at America if you think you don’t get anything from the relationship other than drone strikes and retaliations for them in the form of devastating suicide bombings.
To counter that narrative, Holbrooke started by calling together the newly created Friends of Democratic Pakistan in an international gathering in Tokyo to help Pakistan rebuild its economy. He got $5 billion in pledges to assist Pakistan. “That is a respectable IPO,” Holbrooke would brag, hoping that the opening would garner even more by way of capital investment in Pakistan’s future.
Holbrooke thought that we should give Pakistan much more aid, and not just the military kind. We should do our best to be seen giving it, and to make sure that it improved the lives of everyday Pakistanis in meaningful ways. Holbrooke had gleaned these insights from talking to Pakistanis high and low. Pakistan’s finance minister (and later foreign minister) Hina Rabbani Khar gave Holbrooke a tutorial on U.S. aid to Pakistan. They met on the veranda of the magnificent Chiragan Palace Hotel in Istanbul, a former home to Ottoman sultans that was the venue for an international conference on Pakistan. Khar said to Holbrooke:
Richard, let me tell you a few things about your aid: First, no one in Pakistan sees what you spend it on. People can point to the Chinese bridge; they cannot identify a single thing your aid has done. Second, most of the money never gets to Pakistan; it is spent in Washington. Of every dollar you say you give to Pakistan, maybe ten cents makes it to Pakistan. Finally, you never ask us what we need and what you should give aid to. So your aid does nothing for your image and does not serve your goals with Pakistan. If you want to have an impact, you have to fix that.
And that became Holbrooke’s objective. American aid could make a difference if it was visible and effective. Only then would Pakistanis think that there was value to a relationship with America.
If we wanted to change Pakistan, Holbrooke thought, we had to think in terms of a Marshall Plan. After a journalist asked him whether the $5 billion in aid was not too much for Pakistan, Holbrooke answered, “Pakistan needs $50 billion, not $5 billion.” The White House did not want to hear that—it meant a fight with Congress and spending political capital to convince the American people. Above all else, it required an audacious foreign policy gambit for which the Obama administration was simply not ready.
Yet in reality we were spending much more than that on Afghanistan. For every dollar we gave Pakistan in aid, we spent twenty on Afghanistan. That money did not go very far; it was like pouring water into sand. We would have been doing ourselves a big favor if we had reversed that ratio. It seems we had no problem spending money, just not on things that would actually bring about change and serve our interests. Even General Petraeus understood this. I recall him saying at a Pakistan meeting: “You get what you pay for. We have not paid much for much of anything in Pakistan.”
In the end, we settled for far more modest assistance to Pakistan. The Kerry-Lugar-Berman legislation of 2009 earmarked $7.5 billion in aid to Pakistan over a five-year period—the first long-term all-ci
vilian aid package. It was no Marshall Plan, and Congress could still refuse to fund the authorization, but it made a dent in suspicious Pakistani attitudes.
Holbrooke also believed we needed more aggressive diplomacy: America had to talk to Pakistan, frequently and not just about security issues that concern us, but also about a host of economic and social issues that they cared about. The more often American leaders met their Pakistani counterparts and the more diverse the set of issues they addressed, the more broad-based the relationship would become. And if Pakistanis saw something tangible coming out of these meetings they would warm up to closer ties with the United States. Holbrooke knew from the many hours he had spent with Pakistani leaders, academics, and journalists that they wanted to see a long-term relationship with the United States—a commitment to friendship that was not limited to the duration of our engagement in Afghanistan. It was critical for us not to peddle a so-called transactional relationship but to show interest in something more strategic.
Holbrooke convinced Secretary of State Hillary Clinton that America had to offer a strategic partnership to Pakistan, built around a Strategic Dialogue—a type of bilateral forum that America holds with a number of countries, including China and India. America would talk to Pakistan about security issues but also discuss water, energy, and social and economic issues. Holbrooke thought that Clinton was the perfect American leader to lead this effort—she had a history with Pakistan (she had traveled there as both First Lady and senator) and was well liked by Pakistanis. Clinton was also America’s chief diplomat, and who better to engage in diplomacy with Pakistan than the chief?
Clinton was not ready to cut Pakistan any slack on their support for the Taliban or terrorism, but she was serious about engaging Pakistan’s leaders and showing them a path out of their foreign policy quandary. She believed pressure should be combined with engagement and assistance.
In one of her first meetings with Pakistan’s military and intelligence chiefs she asked them point blank to tell her what their vision was for Pakistan: “Would Pakistan become like North Korea? I am just curious, I would like to hear where you see your country going.” The generals were at a loss for words. So were a group of senior journalists when, during a 2009 interview in Lahore, she pushed back against their incessant criticism of U.S. policy, saying: “I can’t believe that there isn’t anybody in the Pakistani government who knows where bin Laden is.” She was tough. But she was just as serious about engaging Pakistanis on issues that mattered to them.
Clinton was hugely successful in capturing the attention of Pakistanis high and low. Her willingness to invest time in the relationship and engage the country’s media, civil society, youth, and businessmen provided a palpable new dynamism in the troubled relationship. But the White House was not all that taken by the diplomatic effort, and would not shore it up when the actions of the military and CIA undermined it.
America’s relations with Pakistan between 2009 and 2011 ran on two tracks. On the first track, the CIA and the Pentagon were leaning hard on Pakistan to give us more help that we could use against al-Qaeda and the Taliban. The CIA had one goal: protect America from another al-Qaeda attack. Pakistan remained a big worry in that regard, especially after the failed May 1, 2010, SUV-bomb plot to attack New York City’s Times Square was traced back to the country. The bomber, Faisal Shahzad, was a Pakistan-born U.S. citizen who had received terror training in the FATA and had been arrested at JFK Airport while sitting on a flight bound for Islamabad. The Pentagon, for its part, had a war to win and wanted Pakistan’s help to finish off the Taliban. On the other track, the State Department was slowly repairing America’s damaged relations with Pakistan.
But the two tracks were not complementary. The CIA and the Pentagon decided on America’s goals vis-à-vis Pakistan. These were predictably narrow in scope and all terrorism focused. The CIA and the Pentagon benefited from the positive climate that the State Department was fostering, but their constant pressure on Islamabad always threatened to break up the relationship. Whether meeting Pakistanis face-to-face or debating policy in Washington, they set a pugilistic tone for America’s talks with Pakistan, but then bore no responsibility for the outcome. I remember Holbrooke shaking his head and saying, “Watch them [the CIA] ruin this relationship. And when it is ruined, they are going to say ‘We told you, you can’t work with Pakistan!’ We never learn.”
Holbrooke knew that in these circumstances, anyone advocating diplomacy would have to fight to be heard inside the White House. He tried to reach out to Obama, but his efforts were to no avail. Obama remained above the fray. The president seemed to sense that no one would fault him for taking a “tough guy” approach to Pakistan. If the approach failed (as indeed it did), the nefarious, double-dealing Pakistanis would get the blame (as indeed they did).
After Abbottabad, Washington was in no mood to soft-pedal what it saw as Pakistani duplicity. Pressure started to build on Pakistan. Gone were promises of aid and assistance, strategic partnership, and deep and long-lasting ties. The Pentagon and the CIA now came clean to say they did not want relations with Pakistan, just Pakistan’s cooperation. The administration threatened to cut aid and shamed and embarrassed Pakistan through public criticisms and media leaks. Some of the leaks retold familiar tales of Pakistan being reluctant to cooperate in fighting terrorism or undermining the American pursuit of al-Qaeda outright; others revealed dark truths about how Pakistani intelligence had manipulated public opinion and even gone so far as to silence journalists permanently.
Pakistan’s top brass understood this line of attack to be directed at weakening them and driving a wedge between the military and the Pakistani public. Perhaps, the generals thought, it was even meant to rally the media and pro-democracy forces that had brought down Musharraf to the idea of challenging the military’s grip on power once again—essentially promoting regime change. Kayani and his fellow corps commanders thought that, having sensed weakness in the wake of the humiliating bin Laden raid, America was going for the military’s jugular. Once close, the Pakistani and U.S. militaries were now in a clearly adversarial relationship.
The charges that Admiral Mullen made in his September 2011 Senate testimony sent a clear message: We’re taking off the kid gloves when dealing with Pakistan.24 It is time to treat it like any enemy and find ways to contain its most dangerous forms of waywardness.25 It was common for White House meetings on Pakistan to turn into litanies of complaints as senior officials competed for colorful adjectives to capture how back-stabbing and distrustful they thought Pakistani leaders to be. The most frequently stated sentiment was “We have had it with these guys.”
But a policy of containment has a high price. It means that U.S. troops will have to stay in Afghanistan less to fight the Taliban than to keep an eye on Pakistan. That would be nothing short of failure in our regional strategy. In the end, all we will have achieved is to entrench American military presence in the region.
After Holbrooke died, the White House kept Clinton and the State Department at bay over AfPak policy. But their attention to Pakistan was intermittent; the country bobbed onto the White House radar screen every time there was a crisis, but otherwise the relationship was left to founder.
The public campaign against Pakistan proved self-defeating. Openly shamed, the generals turned defensive. Accustomed to thinking of themselves as both the shield and cement of the nation, they feared that America had made it a matter of settled purpose to undo them, so they banished any thought of cooperation and curled up like khaki-clad hedgehogs.
As I have noted, Osama bin Laden was hiding in Abbottabad in circumstances that make it difficult not to accuse Pakistan’s military of sheltering him;26 but we would not have found him and many other militants who were targets of drone attacks in Pakistan were it not for stepped-up Pakistani cooperation on intelligence collection and for their letting CIA operatives into Pakistan.27 Pakistanis did not want to issue as many visas to potential CIA operatives as they did, but g
iven the upward trajectory of U.S.-Pakistan relations in 2009 and 2010, they felt compelled to do it.
I lost count of how many times Holbrooke told Pakistani officials, “How could you deny our people visas when we are doing so well in our Strategic Dialogue?” It worked every time. I am sure the Pakistani military later rued the degree of cooperation it extended, but Holbrooke was right: You get more out of Pakistan if there is a positive trajectory to the relationship. Pakistan wasn’t giving us all we wanted, but we were getting something, and even if it was not optimal, it was not trivial either. When we replaced promises of partnership and assistance with raw pressure, we found that the little bit of cooperation we were taking for granted soon went away.
After the relationship fell apart in 2011, many in the administration and the media put the blame on Pakistan. They said it was Pakistan that decided to blow up the relationship, beginning with the way it reacted to the Raymond Davis affair. But the reason Pakistan acted as it did was because our policy of complementing pressure with engagement and aid had been successful in getting out of them more than they had been willing to give. It was a mistake on the part of the administration to respond to Pakistan’s reaction by abandoning a policy that was working. We should have doubled down on what had worked.
In July 2011, National Security Adviser Tom Donilon asked Senator Kerry to talk to General Kayani and see if he would put U.S.-Pakistan relations back on track. The senator and the army chief agreed to a secret meeting in Abu Dhabi, and the two men met for nineteen hours over two days. It was the most substantive and thoroughgoing conversation America had had with Pakistan in some time. Kayani and Kerry worked together to put Kayani’s thoughts into a white paper for Obama, which Kerry brought back with him to Washington.