Because the Pakistanis had the tactical
advantage of occupying the ridge line, India took heavy losses in recovering
the area from the invaders. The so-called Kargil War
was the first conventional conflict between India and Pakistan since the two
conducted nuclear tests in May 1998. International observers were wary that the
conflict would escalate either in territory or aims, with the potential for
nuclear exchange.
Fearing such escalation, then Pakistani prime minister
Nawaz Sharif sought support from China and the
United States. Both were adamant that Pakistan respect the line of
control, which separated the portions of Jammu-Kashmir administered by India
and Pakistan.
Under international pressure and branded an
irresponsible state, Pakistan withdrew its forces from Kashmir. It initially
claimed that the intruders were mujahedeen—but this was later found to be pure
fiction. While Pakistan was isolated internationally, the international
community widely applauded India’s restraint. The Kargil War
provided the United States
with the opportunity to reorient its relations away from Pakistan towards
India, while at the same time, demonstrated to India that the United States would
not reflexively side with Pakistan.
In retrospect, the Kargil war catalyzed the deepening
security cooperation between the United States and India. It also galvanized a
serious rethink in India about its domestic security apparatus, intelligence
agencies’ capabilities, and overall military doctrine.
Crucially, India learned from this conflict that
limited war is indeed possible under the nuclear umbrella. In Oct. 2000, air
commodore Jasjit Singh,
who retired as the director of operations of India’s air force and headed India’s Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses
until 2001, laid out the lineaments of
an India’s limited war doctrine. However, no apparent effort was
made to make this a viable military concept immediately and India persisted
with its defensive posture. In late Dec. 2001, Pakistani terrorists from the
Pakistan-backed military group Jaish-e-Mohammad attacked
India’s parliament in New Delhi.
In response, India’s government began the largest
military mobilization since the 1971 war, which resulted in the
liberation of Bangladesh, then East Pakistan. Just as the crisis was subsiding,
another group of Pakistani terrorists, Lashkar-e-Taiba, attacked the wives and
children of Indian military personnel in Kaluchak,
Kashmir. India again seemed poised to take military action but
ultimately backed down. The crisis was officially defused after India held
elections in Kashmir later that fall. Pakistan concluded that its nuclear
arsenal had successfully deterred India from attacking.
As Walter Ladwig
has written, analysts identified several problems with India’s posture during
that crisis. First, the Indian army took a long time to mobilize which gave
Pakistan time to internationalize the conflict and to bring international
pressure to bare upon India. Second, the mobilization of India’s strike corps
had no element of surprise. Even Pakistan’s modest surveillance capabilities
could easily detect their movements, and given their “lumbering composition,”
could quickly discern their destination. Third, according to Ladwig,
India’s holding corps’ were forward deployed to the border but lacked offensive
power and could only conduct limited offensive tasks.
In response to these collective inadequacies, and the
prospects of enduring threats from Pakistan, the Indian defense community began
formalizing what came to be known as “Cold Start.” Ladwig,
who wrote the first comprehensive account, claims that the doctrine aimed to pivot
India away from its traditional defensive posture, and towards a more offensive
one. It involved developing eight division-sized “integrated battle groups”
that combined infantry, artillery, and armor which would be prepared to launch
into Pakistani territory on short notice along several axes of advance.
These groups would also be closely integrated with
support from the navy and air force. With this force posture, India could
quickly mobilize these battle groups and seize limited Pakistani territory before
the international community could raise objections.
India could then use this seized territory to force
Pakistan into accepting the status quo in Kashmir. While Indians insist that
this doctrine never existed, other analysts discount Indian demurrals and note
slow—but steady—progress in developing these offensive capabilities.
Irrespective of India’s protestations, Pakistanis take “Cold Start” to be a
matter of Quranic fact.
Worried that its primary tools of using terrorism
fortified by the specter of nuclear war, and fearing that India would be able
to force acquiescence, Pakistan concluded that it could vitiate “Cold Start” by
developing tactical nuclear weapons. As Pakistan’s former ambassador the United
States and current ambassador to the United Nations, Maleeha Lodhi,
explained, the basis of Pakistan’s fascination with tactical nuclear weapons is
“to counterbalance India’s move to bring conventional military offensives to a
tactical level.’’
Pakistani military and civilians often boast of their
fast growing arsenal of the world’s smallest nuclear weapons and routinely
update the world on the progress of the short-range missile, the Nasr, that
would deliver this ever-shrinking payload.
Why should ordinary Pakistanis care?
While Pakistanis overwhelmingly applaud their army’s
continued efforts to harass India in pursuit of Kashmir—a territory that Pakistan
was never
entitled to but fought three wars to acquire by force—there are numerous
reasons why Pakistanis should be more sanguine, or even alarmed
by Pakistan’s development of tactical nuclear weapons.
The first reality that should discomfit ordinary
Pakistanis is that there is really no such thing as a “tactical nuclear
weapon.” Even the smallest so-called tactical nuclear weapon will have
strategic consequences. (Simply calling them “battlefield nuclear weapons” does
not obviate this serious problem.) If Pakistan should use such weapons on
India, there is virtually no chance that India will be left responding alone.
The international community will most certainly rally around India. The
response to Pakistan breaking a nuclear taboo that formed after the Americans
used atomic bombs on Japan will most certainly be swift and devastating.
Second, as Shashank Joshi, a war
studies researcher at the University of Oxford, has argued, these weapons do
not have the military benefits that Pakistan’s military boasts, yet they
exacerbate the enormous command and control challenges, including the
possibility that nefarious elements may pilfer them once they are forward
deployed. For one thing, tactical nuclear weapons do not have significant
battlefield effects on enemy targets. For another, it is not evident that these
weapons are in fact capable of deterring an Indian incursion into Pakistan.
Third, while Naeem Salik, a former
director for arms control at Pakistan’s Strategic Plans Directorate, has said
that Pakistan has shifted away from merely doctrinal thinking towards “actual
nuclear war fighting,” such thinking is hardly viable for the simple reason of
faulty math.
Even if, for the sake of argument, one assumes that
Pakistan deploys its one hundred odd weapons of 15 to 30 kilotons at India’s
major cities, it is unlikely that Pakistan would be able to deploy all of these
weapons to conduct a “splendid first strike,” by which Indian capabilities are
completely destroyed.
Moreover, it takes considerably fewer weapons of
similar magnitude to utterly destroy Pakistan. Pakistan has thoughtfully
concentrated all but three corps in central the Punjab region, which is also
its most populous province and the country’s industrial and agricultural
center. In short, Pakistan will cease to be a viable political entity while
India, though grievously hurt, will survive as a state. Even if Pakistan
obtains a functioning triad and retains launch capabilities from submarines,
they will be launched in defense of a state that, simply put, no longer exists.
There is a fourth problem that should disquiet
Pakistanis perhaps even more than the triggering of the destruction of their
country through the deliberate or inadvertent use of their micro-weapons—these
tactical nuclear weapons are intended to be used first against Indian
troops on Pakistani soil. According to a conference report by the Naval Post School,
which hosted Pakistan’s military and diplomatic officials, one Pakistani
luminary opined that the “Nasr creates a balancing dynamic that
frustrates and makes futile the power-maximizing strategy of India.”
He envisages the Nasr’s shells being used to carry
atomic explosives that would annihilate advancing Indian armored thrusts in the
southern deserts and blunt Indian advances toward major Pakistani cities, such
as Lahore. Retired military general S. F. S.
Lodhi, in the April 1999 issue of the Pakistan Defence Journal,
laid out
four stages of escalation in Pakistan’s use of tactical nuclear weapons which
aligns with this view as well.
The consequences of Pakistan nuking itself to keep the
Indians out should disturb Pakistanis. According to calculations by Jaganath
Sankaran, Pakistan would have to use a 30-kiloton weapon on its own
soil, as this is the minimum required to render ineffective fifty percent of an
armored unit.
Using Lahore as an example, a 30-kiloton weapon used
on the outskirts of the city could kill over 52,000 persons. As Indian troops
move closer to Lahore and as the population increases, such a weapon could kill
nearly 380,000. Sankaran notes, as an aside, that this would “genuinely destroy
a larger battalion or brigade.” Consequently, many more Pakistanis would be
likely to die than these horrendous figures suggest.
All of sudden, Pakistan’s tactical nuclear weapons
don’t look so fun
for any Pakistani who thinks through the math.
Fifth, Pakistanis should be derisive of this new
weapon in the national arsenal because it cannot do what the army promises:
protect Pakistan from an Indian offensive. Would any Indian military planner
take seriously Pakistan’s threat to use nuclear weapons on its own soil when
the casualties are so high? Pakistan may have been willing to eat grass to get
its nuclear weapons, but is it willing destroy its own center of gravity to
maintain its ability to harass India with terrorism over territory to which it
never had any legal claim? If the Indians do not take this threat seriously,
how is it a deterrent against them? What additional deterrent capability do
these weapons afford Pakistan that its strategic assets do not that compensates
for the enormous risks they convey?
Finally, if India took Pakistan’s threats seriously,
it does not have to invade Pakistan to coerce the country’s leaders to detonate
one of these weapons on its own soil. Presumably simply looking adequately
likely to cross the international border and threaten a major Punjabi city
could provoke a “demonstration
detonation.”
I am not encouraging a nuclear Armageddon upon
Pakistan; rather expositing the limited utility that these weapons confer upon
Pakistan.
Even if Pakistan fully inducts these weapons in its
arsenal, it still has an army that can’t win a conventional war against India
and nuclear weapons it cannot use. This leaves only an industrial farm of
terrorists as the only efficacious tool at its disposal. And given the logic of
the above scenario, India and the international community should consider
seriously calling Pakistan’s bluff. The only logical Pakistani response to a
limited offensive incursion is to accept the fait accompli and acquiesce.
So far, the West has seen Pakistan’s nuclear weapons as a proliferation threat rather than a security threat. The implications of this has largely been appeasement. The United States, worried that Pakistan’s weapons may fall into the hands of non-state actors or that Pakistan will once again reopen its nuclear weapons bazaar to aspirant nuclear powers, perpetually argues for engaging Pakistan diplomatically, militarily, politically, and financially. In essence, Pakistan has effectively blackmailed the United States and the international community for an array of assistance exploiting the collective fears of what may happen should Pakistan collapse.
So far, the West has seen Pakistan’s nuclear weapons as a proliferation threat rather than a security threat. The implications of this has largely been appeasement. The United States, worried that Pakistan’s weapons may fall into the hands of non-state actors or that Pakistan will once again reopen its nuclear weapons bazaar to aspirant nuclear powers, perpetually argues for engaging Pakistan diplomatically, militarily, politically, and financially. In essence, Pakistan has effectively blackmailed the United States and the international community for an array of assistance exploiting the collective fears of what may happen should Pakistan collapse.
In recent months, some US White
House officials have even argued for a potential nuclear deal to
reward Pakistan for making concessions in fissile material production, limiting
the development and deployment of its nuclear weapons among other activates to
address Washington’s proliferation concerns. Unfortunately, Washington has yet
to seriously formulate punishments rather than allurements to achieve these
ends, even though Pakistan has shown no interest in making such concessions.
There are reasons why the United States and the
international community should begin to see Pakistan’s nuclear weapons as a
direct security threat. For one thing, these nuclear weapons have always been
intended to allow Pakistan to harass India
through the use of militant proxies. Consequently, Pakistan has
become an epicenter of Islamist terrorism.
Had Pakistan not had these nuclear capabilities, India
could have sorted out Pakistan some time ago. Moreover, the critical time
period for Pakistan’s nuclear program was in the late 1970s, when Pakistan was
on the threshold of obtaining a crude weapon. (We now know that Pakistan had a
crude nuclear weapon by 1984 if not
somewhat earlier.) The United States even sanctioned Pakistan in
1979 for advances in its program.
The United States relented in its nonproliferation
policy with respect to Pakistan after the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan.
Reagan, after getting
sanctions waived in 1982, began supporting the so-called mujahedeen
produced by Pakistan for use in Afghanistan. (Pakistan
actually began its own jihad policy in 1974 on its dime without US assistance.)
Saudi Arabia matched America’s contributions. While
al-Qaeda is not truly the direct descendent of the Afghan mujahedeen, there can
be little doubt that the structures built to wage this jihad gave birth to the
group. Had the United States remained focused on nuclear weapons in Pakistan,
and used a different strategy in Afghanistan, a wholly different future could
have been realized.
As tensions between the United States and Pakistan
deepen, and as Pakistan’s arsenal expands and permits it to target US assets in
South, Central, and Southwest Asia, the United States should begin considering
Pakistan’s proliferation of nuclear weapons and delivery vehicles as a direct
threat to its security, rather than merely a proliferation problem to be
managed. AsiaTimes
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