The entire 2002 edition of the Pakistan Army Green Book is dedicated to the subject of LIC. Many of the volume’s authors agree that it is the most likely form of militarized dispute between India and Pakistan. Maj. Gen. Muhammad Saleem (2002) proclaims in the volume’s lead essay that LIC “looms as the most viable and dangerous option” (1). As mentioned already, the 2002 Green Book went to press in the midst of the 2001–2002 dispute between India and Pakistan, which was sparked by the December 2001 attack on the Indian Parliament carried out by Pakistani-backed and -trained terrorists. Yet most of the authors in this volume, astonishingly, discuss LIC only in the context of Indian actions. Saleem, for example, argues that “India, while ensuring that it does not cross a certain threshold to evoke a nuclear response from Pakistan, shall endeavour to wage this kind of warfare by fully exploiting the prevailing socioeconomic conditions” (1).
In the same volume, Brig. Muneer Mahmud (2002) suggests, with greater honesty, that even though conventional war between India and Pakistan is unlikely, the prevailing environment is conducive to LIC. Important vulnerabilities exist in “the internal dynamics of India and Pakistan. Social dissent, economic disparities, political instability and ethnic polarization are some of the most vulnerable areas. These vulnerabilities provide sufficient grounds for LIC scenario” (21). Mahmud predicts that “due to the economic constraints and emerging trends, maintaining huge armies may not be a viable option for India and Pakistan” (ibid.). It should be noted that no evidence existed in 2002 that India was unable or unwilling to bear the costs of sustaining one of the world’s largest armies. It is even doubtful that Pakistan’s security managers had such concerns at that time since Pakistan had just embarked on another round of close military cooperation with the United States and was beginning to enjoy the financial benefits of its decision. Nonetheless, using economics perhaps as an excuse, Mahmud argues that “both countries will, however, continue to be engaged in confrontation due to [the] un-settled core issue [of Kashmir]. This situation favours LIC as the most appropriate form [of conflict] in future” (ibid.).
Other authors in the same volume address the likelihood of LIC between India and Pakistan in nearly identical language, suggesting that the publisher exercised editorial control to ensure uniformity. Brig. Muhammad Nazar Tiwana (2002), for example, identifies several structural factors that dispose the two countries to such conflicts, namely: “The history of the Indo-Pak rivalry, the adverse psychological mindset, the three dilapidating military confrontations between two countries, Indian hegemonistic designs and nuclearisation of South Asia” (26). He echoes Mahmud when he writes that “social dissent, economic disparities, political instability and ethnic polarization and religious extremism are some of the most vulnerable areas [that] … provide sufficient grounds for low intensity conflict scenario.” Most importantly, nuclearization “reduces chances of an open all-out war between both the countries but also indicates low-intensity conflict as the most likely option” (ibid.). Tiwana, reflecting on these varied considerations, concludes that LIC is the most appropriate form of future warfare.
In 2004, the Pakistan Army dedicated the Green Book to the topic of limited war. Writing in its pages, Brig. Muhammad Ifzal makes a clear statement of Pakistan’s conception of limited war: “While retaining the capability to undertake large scale limited conventional operations both defensive and offensive, Pakistan’s army concept for Limited war will fundamentally hinge on asymmetric warfare and nuclear deterrence against India” (17). Ifzal argues that India also values low-intensity conflict for its own reasons: India believes that Pakistan is exploiting its nuclear umbrella to engage in LIC (most importantly by deploying mujahideen) and to annex all of Indian-administered Kashmir “without resorting to conventional war” (ibid.). While acknowledging the utility of LIC to India, Ifzal believes that Pakistan’s policy of ambiguity regarding its nuclear threshold will curtail India’s freedom of operations, particularly with respect to the military objectives of a limited war (ibid.). But Ifzal, understanding that India has redlines as well, suggests that Pakistan should prosecute LIC with care so as not to exceed the “tolerance threshold of the Indians” while “at the same time, disallowing Indians to reach the patience threshold of the Kashmiris” (ibid.). This is an important recognition of the trade-offs for Pakistan of its policy in Kashmir. On one hand, Pakistan cannot antagonize India to a point of escalation (as happened in 1965). On the other hand, Ifzal acknowledges that Pakistan’s center of gravity in Kashmir is the Kashmiri population and thus that Pakistan needs to be mindful of how Indian countermeasures affect Kashmiris’ attitudes toward the conflict and Pakistan’s role in it.
As with other military writers, Ifzal (2004) supports a short conflict as most appropriate for Pakistan’s “war stamina as compared to the Indians,” especially if Pakistan can “achieve significant gains in early stages of the war” (17). In contrast, he notes that “a long drawn limited conventional war would be in India[’s] interest,” as it would allow India to exploit its advantages (ibid.). His view of nuclear weapons is similar to that of many other Pakistani writers: Pakistan values nuclear weapons because they essentially “deny [the] enemy the option of an all-out conventional war due to the nuclear deterrent and denial of limited War option to India by threatening all-out war” (18). Because both India and Pakistan recognize that limited war is the only option after May 1998, and given that they remain locked in a dispute over Kashmir, Ifzal anticipates that Kashmir will remain a flashpoint. He cautions that there is a “chance that freedom struggle in IHK [Indian-held Kashmir] goes beyond the Indian tolerance limits at a stage, which forces her to react for limited objectives in Kashmir” (ibid.). Reflecting on Pakistan’s experience in the 1965 war, he anticipates that India may believe that it has the freedom of action to launch punitive operations across the Line of Control (LOC) or even the international border to punish Pakistan for the “precarious situation in Kashmir” because it thinks that choosing a “shallow depth of targets [is not likely to] provoke any nuclear response [from Pakistan]” (ibid.).
Other authors in the 2004 volume of the Pakistan Army Green Book share Ifzal’s (2004) assessment. For example, Maj. General Shahid Iqbal (2004) writes that “nuclearisation of the Subcontinent has given a shot in the arm to this erstwhile concept of limited war” (83). Like other authors in this volume, he anticipates that limited war between the two states will be “intricately intertwined with [the] freedom struggle in Kashmir, the impact of exterior manoeuvre by respective countries, the global interests in the region, the consequent world opinion and the makeup of political forces in the two states” (ibid.). Although Iqbal believes that the “freedom movement in Kashmir will be the catalyst for any conflagration in foreseeable future, the initiative to cross the Rubicon stays with India” (ibid.). And while India retains the option of responding accordingly, it is Pakistan that gets to wield “leverage/influence on the tempo of freedom struggle.” Furthermore, India’s options are limited by Pakistan’s nuclear deterrent: as Iqbal notes, “during [the] Kargil conflict, India had its freedom of action drastically curtailed due to [Pakistan’s] extant nuclear deterrence” (ibid.). Pakistan, in contrast, faces different constraints. Iqbal suggests that “Pakistan had to restrain itself due to international pressure, and [an] unfavourable correlation of conventional forces” (ibid.). But, as he notes that with respect to India’s mobilization in 2001–2002, India’s “aggressive posturing was checkmated due to Pakistan’s firm resolve coupled with utterly unfavourable regional and international climate” (ibid.).
This argument is worth scrutinizing in detail. Not only does Iqbal (2004) explicitly state that Pakistan can calibrate the violence in Kashmir with impunity, thanks to its nuclear deterrent, he also acknowledges what I described in the previous chapter: Pakistan’s nuclear weapons also attract the attention of international actors who seek to constrain India, Pakistan, or both. For example, the “unfavorable regional and international climate” he ment
ions in his discussion of the 2001–2002 crisis refers to the US military presence in Afghanistan and Pakistan and the American goal of keeping Pakistani forces concentrated in the west to hunt al-Qaeda and Taliban fugitives crossing the Durand Line. Any Indian mobilization, much less outright war, would have seriously compromised American war objectives by drawing Pakistan’s forces away from its western border and toward its border with India in the east. Iqbal correctly notes that the United States exerted diplomatic pressure on India not to escalate and at the same time tried to persuade Pakistan’s leadership to make at least a minimal commitment to ceasing support for terrorism to enable India to deescalate.
Iqbal (2004) also identifies a key similarity of the Kargil and 2001–2002 conflicts: Kashmir was a central issue for Pakistan in both conflicts, and India’s conventional superiority did not deter Pakistan from acting. Both conflicts validated Pakistan’s assumptions about the role of international influence as well as its belief that nuclear deterrence “restrained India from crossing the Line of Control (LOC)/international borders, even in air and sea, despite manifest desire/posturing to escalate” (83). Astonishingly, Iqbal boldly states that Pakistan’s importance to the US-led global war on terror and “Indian naivety in understanding the nuances of balance of power in the region” enabled Pakistan’s course of action (ibid.). This article is perhaps the clearest explication of Pakistan’s use of nuclear weapons to deter Indian escalation and convince international actors to restrain India’s response to its actions in Kashmir.1
In 2008, the Pakistan Army dedicated the Pakistan Army Green Book to the future conflict environment. Reflecting the changed nature of US–Pakistan relations, in this volume the United States appears, along with India, as a possible future foe. Unsurprisingly, nuclear weapons play a role in enabling Pakistan to manage the perceived threat from the United States as well as India. Brig. Shaukat Iqbal’s (2008) essay, which is typical of the volume, begins with an insinuation that the Americans are “creating [an] environment to handle Pakistan. [The c]ase of nuclear proliferation of Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan is like a hanging sword. … It may be used against Pakistan, as and when situation arises [sic]” (43). But Iqbal imagines not only an American threat, but an Indian one as well. The author is disconcerted that “India has become bride-groom of both West and the East. China, forgetting its border disputes, intends winning over India, Russia is using its leverage of past relations, The USA and the West is attempting to develop India as a strategic partner” (ibid.). Iqbal cautions that “through focused propaganda, prevailing perception will be strengthened that Pakistan intelligence and security forces are supporting Talibans [sic] in war against Western Coalition [sic]; Pakistan is Talibanized and extremist forces are posing threat to Pakistan’s nuclear weapons” (46). Moreover, such a disinformation campaign will be used by Pakistan’s enemies to “destabilize it internally before launching of military blitz” (ibid.). The author intimates that India, which has secured the trust of the United States, may act against Pakistan as a US proxy. Incredibly, Iqbal argues further that the Pakistan Army is “perceived to be Centre of Gravity … of Pakistan which is back [sic] by irregular forces (like Mujahideens [sic]) and is reinforced by nuclear weapons. It has ability to create synergetic effects in asymmetric environment by employing Mujahideens [sic] and nuclear doctrine” (ibid.).
To contend with this complicated future threat environment, Iqbal (2008) recommends, among other actions, that the army employ the intelligence agencies to “train, prepare and organize the ‘guerrillas in combat units to fight a guerrilla warfare’ to bleed the enemy forces and disrupt its supply line (48).” Necessarily, this will require the “highest level of training to fight defensive battle in conjunction with employment of ‘guerrillas’ … [that] may demand … retention of potential to prepare, train and employ Mujahideens [sic] as guerrillas” (ibid.). Most importantly, he contends that this strategy “requires retention of credible nuclear deterrence throughout” (ibid.). Iqbal doesn’t make clear in which theatre these irregular forces would be used. He could conceivably be contemplating the deployment of mujahideen (or even Taliban) against coalition forces in Afghanistan, in India, or even within Pakistan itself, in the event that Pakistan is attacked on its own territory. Nonetheless, he is very clear that Pakistan can use these nonconventional assets only as long as it possesses a robust nuclear deterrent.
As I have shown in Chapter 8, there is a positive correlation between nuclearization of the subcontinent and militarized disputes between India and Pakistan. The present chapter provides further evidence that nuclearization has encouraged Pakistani adventurism—by both deterring India and forcing the international community to restrain India, to act to resolve the crisis by encouraging both sides to take palliative steps, or to punish one or both sides, among other measures. My examination of Pakistan’s literature demonstrates that early concepts of infiltration and guerrilla war continued to evolve along with Pakistan’s (and India’s) nuclearization. By the twenty-first century, Pakistan Army authors were writing explicitly about Pakistan’s ability to prosecute subconventional conflict under its nuclear umbrella. In the next section, I present a brief overview of the various Islamist militant groups that the state has groomed to prosecute these varied efforts. I focus on this set of proxy actors both because it is currently the most destabilizing ensemble of militants in the region—whether we look at Afghanistan, India, or Pakistan itself—and because these groups have been the mainstay of Pakistan’s proxy war initiatives. While Pakistan aided and abetted Sikh insurgents in the Indian Punjab from the late 1970s until the insurgency ended in the early 1990s, Pakistan did not create the insurgents but rather made use of them when possible. In contrast, Pakistan, from the beginning of its existence, has created, nurtured, supported, trained, financed, and deployed Islamist proxies.
Pakistan’s Militant Assets
Prior to Pervez Musharraf’s acquiescence to Washington’s demand that Pakistan join the US-led global war on terrorism after September 2001, one could parse Pakistan’s militant2 landscape according to sectarian orientation, primary theater of operation, ethnic constitution, and even preferred attack techniques. One array of militant groups (askari tanzeems) traditionally focused on Kashmir; this cluster included the Deobandi groups of Jaish-e-Mohammad (JeM) and Harkat-ul-Ansar/Harkat-ul-Mujahideen (HuA/HuM); Ahl-e-Hadith organizations such as the Punjab-based LeT; and the Jamaat-e-Islami influenced groups such as Hizbul Mujahideen and Al-Badr.3 Analysts typically call these militant organizations Kashmiri groups; this is a misnomer, however, because these organizations include few ethnic Kashmiris among their ranks and most do not operate exclusively in Kashmir. LeT and JeM, for example, have long operated throughout India. In recent years, splinters of JeM and other Deobandi groups have begun operating in Pakistan as part of their war on the Pakistani state. LeT, as well as several Deobandi militant groups, also operate in Afghanistan against US, North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)/International Security Assistance Force (ISAF), and Afghan civilian and military personnel alike. In contrast, Al-Badr and Hizbul Mujahideen tend to be composed mostly of ethnic Kashmiris and have retained their focus on Kashmir.
A second group of askari tanzeems is traditionally sectarian in nature, in that they target Pakistan’s Shia community, among other religious minorities. Two of the most important anti-Shia sectarian groups are Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (LeJ) and Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan (SSP), both of which are under the sway of the Deobandi ulema political party the Jamiat-ulema-Islami (JUI) and are funded by wealthy Arab individuals and organizations. Notably, these sectarian tanzeems have overlapping membership with other Deobandi militant groups, including the Afghan and Pakistani Taliban, all of which have strong connections to the JUI (Abou Zahab and Roy 2004; Fair 2011b). In the past, Shia sectarian groups have also been lethally active. These groups, which have now largely disappeared, targeted Sunni Muslims and received funding from Iran (Fair 2011b).
Since 2004, if not before, Pakistan
has witnessed the development of a cluster of militant groups whose commanders and partisans call themselves the Pakistani Taliban. These groups have successfully established an archipelago of sharia (Islamic law) stretching across the Pakhtun belt in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) and Kyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP). The Tehreek-e-Taliban-e-Pakistan (TTP) often appears in popular media as a monolithic entity, the umbrella organization for nearly all anti-Pakistan Islamist militants in the seven tribal agencies of South and North Waziristan, Orakzai, Kurram, Khyber, Mohmand, and Bajaur; and in the Frontier Regions of Peshawar, Kohat, Bannu, Lakki Marwat, Tank and Dera Ismael Khan; as well as in the settled districts of Swat, Buner, Upper Dir, Lower Dir, Bannu, Lakki Marwat, Tank, Peshawar, Dera Ismail Khan, Mardan, and Kohat. Militants from these areas do claim to be affiliated with the TTP. But serious analysts of the movement do not believe that the TTP has a coherent command and control structure.4 Rahimullah Yusufzai, for instance, a leading Pakistani journalist and expert on the TTP and other Islamist groups, argues that the organization is neither coherent nor disciplined (Yusufzai 2008). Seth Jones and I made a similar argument in a volume that we coauthored in 2010 (Jones and Fair 2010). Drawing on the work of John Arquilla and David Ronfeldt (1997), we describe the TTP’s constituent groups as forming a system of loose networks. These networks vary in size and tend to be dispersed. However, the various “nodes” (e.g., overlapping militant commanders or other shared personalities or organizational functions) can communicate with each other and may even coordinate their campaigns.
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