Beware: Dragon Trap

Dragon’s war dance

India is in serious danger of sliding into a 1962-type dragon trap. It needs high-quality statecraft to ensure that it does not get caught in China’s elaborate efforts to ratchet up border tensions, says Brahma Chellaney

DNA newspaper, September 11, 2009

The 32-day surprise Chinese invasion in 1962 lasted longer than the 1965 and 1971 wars with Pakistan and claimed the lives of more Indian soldiers than any other aggression faced by India since independence, with the exception of 1971. Yet the myth still being peddled internationally is that 1962 was a brief war. Today, as Chinese cross-frontier incursions grow and border tensions rise, the situation is becoming similar to the one that prevailed in the run-up to 1962. The several parallels raise the spectre of another Chinese attack.

First, like in the pre-1962 period, it has become commonplace internationally to speak of India and China in the same breadth. The aim of “Mao’s India war”, as Harvard scholar Roderick MacFarquhar has called it, was large political: To cut India to size by demolishing what it represented — a democratic alternative to the Chinese autocracy. The brute force with which Mao Zedong humiliated India helped discredit the Indian model, boost China’s international image and consolidate Mao’s internal power. The return of the China-India pairing decades later is something Beijing viscerally loathes.

Second, the Dalai Lama’s flight to India in 1959 — and the ready sanctuary he got there — paved the way for the Chinese military attack. Today, 50 years after his escape, the exiled Tibetan leader stands as a bigger challenge than ever for China, as underscored by Beijing’s stepped-up vilification campaign against him. With Beijing now treating the Dalai Lama as its Enemy No. 1, India has come under greater Chinese pressure to curb his activities and those of his government-in-exile. The continuing security clampdown in Tibet since the March 2008 Tibetan uprising parallels the harsh Chinese crackdown in Tibet during 1959-62.

Three, the present pattern of cross-frontier incursions and other border incidents, as well as new force deployments and mutual recriminations, is redolent of the situation that prevailed before the 1962 war. According to the Indian army chief, “This year, there were 21 incursions in June, 20 in July and 24 in August.” Such is the rising graph of Chinese cross-border forays that such intrusions nearly doubled in two years, from 140 in 2006 to 270 in 2008. Little surprise the defence minister warned as early as April 2008 that there is “no room for complacency” along the Himalayan frontier.

Four, the 1962 invasion occurred against the backdrop of China instigating and arming insurgents in India’s northeast. Although such activities ceased after Mao’s 1976 death, China seems to be coming full circle today, with Chinese-made arms increasingly flowing into guerrilla ranks in northeastern India, including via Burma. India has taken up this matter with Beijing at the foreign minister-level. Indeed, Pakistan-based terrorists targeting India now rely on Chinese arms — from the AK-56 assault rifles to the Type 86 grenades made by China’s state-owned Norinco firm. To add to India’s woes, Beijing has blocked efforts to get the United Nations to designate as a terrorist the Pakistan-based Jaish-e-Muhammad group chief, Masood Azhar.

Five, then-Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s slogan, “Hindi-Chini bhai bhai” (Indians and Chinese are brothers), is today matched by the “Chindia” concept, which — disregarding the rivalry and antagonisms — blends the two Asian giants together.

Sixth, just as India had retreated to a defensive position in the border negotiations with Beijing in the early 1960s after having undermined its leverage by accepting the “Tibet region of China” through the 1954 Panchsheel Agreement, New Delhi similarly has been left in the unenviable position today of having to fend off Chinese territorial demands. Whatever leverage India still had on the Tibet issue was surrendered in 2003 when it shifted its position from Tibet being an “autonomous” region within China to it being “part of the territory of the People’s Republic of China.” Little surprise the spotlight now is on China’s Tibet-linked claim to Arunachal Pradesh than on Tibet’s status itself.

That explains why Beijing invested so much political capital over the years in getting India to gradually accept Tibet as part of China. Its success on that score narrows the dispute to what it claims today. The issue in 1962 was Aksai Chin; the issue now is Arunachal, particularly Tawang. But had Beijing really believed Tawang was part of Tibet and hence belonged to China, the Chinese military would have held on to that critical corridor after its capture in 1962, just as it kept the territorial gains of that war in Ladakh.

With India in serious danger of sliding into a 1962-type dragon trap, the country needs high-quality statecraft to handle the present situation and ensure the nation is not again told what Nehru stated the day China attacked — that Beijing returned “evil for good.”

Brahma Chellaney is professor at the Centre for Policy Research in New Delhi.

Why India must build a credible nuclear deterrent

India: Nuclear diffidence,
not deterrence

More than a decade after Pokhran II, India lacks even minimal nuclear-deterrent capability against China.

Brahma Chellaney  India Abroad  September 11, 2009

By
certifying that the 1998 thermonuclear (hydrogen) bomb test was a success,
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh can hardly defuse the renewed national
controversy over that issue. After all, Dr. Singh, while in the opposition, had
not hidden his anti-nuclear sentiment. 

In
fact, he had
warned that the 1998 nuclear tests would seriously impair the national
economy. But
India’s
foreign-exchange reserves actually multiplied five times within seven years and
its GDP growth accelerated sharply. Who had looked at
India as a
rising power before 1998?

Even
former President A.P.J. Abdul Kalam’s certificate cannot squelch questions over
the thermonuclear test. From the Indo-U.S. civilian nuclear deal to the
hydrogen bomb, Kalam has been ever ready to defend official claims, but the
missile program he headed still staggers. In the long years he spent in the
missile program, Kalam could not give
India the basic missile capability
for self-defense.  

India‘s nuclear strategic program has always been shielded
from parliamentary scrutiny and CAG audit. So, it is hard to reliably determine
whether
India‘s
sole thermonuclear test fizzled out quickly or was a success, as officially
claimed. But some facts speak for themselves.

One telling fact is that more than 11 years later,
India
has still not weaponized the thermonuclear technology, even though the test in
1998 was supposed to have catapulted the country into the big-power league. The
thermonuclear test, obviously, was not intended merely as a technology
demonstrator. Therefore, it is legitimate to ask: What has been the security
benefit for the country from that test?

Even more glaring is another fact: More than 35
years after Pokhran I,
India
stands out as a reluctant and tentative
 nuclear power,
still lacking even a barely minimal deterrent capability against
China. Given
the growing military asymmetry with
China, a proven and weaponized
Indian thermonuclear capability, backed by long-range missiles, is critical to
deter the assertive and ambitious northern neighbor. But today,
India does not
have a single Beijing-reachable missile in deployment.

Had India
developed and deployed a minimal but credible
 nuclear-weapons
capability,
China
would not have dared to mess with it. But the increasing Chinese bellicosity,
reflected in rising border incursions and the hardening of
Beijing‘s
stance on territorial disputes, suggests
China
is only getting emboldened against a weaker
India.

Consider yet another unpalatable fact: No country
has struggled longer to build a minimal deterrent or paid heavier international
costs for its
 nuclear program than India
The history of
India’s
 nuclear-weapons program is
actually a record of how it helped establish multilateral technology controls. Pokhran
I, for example, impelled the secret formation of the
 Nuclear Suppliers
Group (NSG).
India’s
space program
 helped give birth to the Missile Technology Control
Regime.

Yet, before it has built a credible minimal
deterrent,
India came full
circle when it entered into a civilian
 nuclear deal with the US and secured an exemption from
the NSG last year to import high-priced commercial
 nuclear power
reactors and fuel. In doing so, it had to accept nonproliferation conditions
that aim to stunt its
 nuclear-deterrent development.

Through this deal, India is seeking to replicate in
the energy sector the very mistake it has made on armaments. Now the world’s
largest arms importer,
India
spends more than $6 billion every year on importing conventional weapons, some
of dubious value, while it neglects to build its own armament-production base.

Conventional weapons simply cannot deter a nuclear adversary.
Deterrence against a
 nuclear foe can only be built on nuclear capability,
especially a second-strike capability that can survive the enemy’s first strike
to inflict massive retaliation.

The key point to note is that with a credible nuclear deterrent,
India would be
under less pressure to keep on spending more than $6 billion annually on arms
imports. Put simply, a small but effective nuclear deterrent can help the
country save money.

Another important point to remember is that
conventional weapons are very expensive in comparison to nukes.
India’s annual
bill for arms imports is far higher than its total annual budget for the
nuclear, missile and space programmes put together. 

Any cost-benefit analysis would show that a credible
nuclear deterrent would be both a cost saver and a security guarantor. It will
deter any open cross-border aggression as well as provide the savings to be ploughed
into civilian modernization.

World history attests that rapid economic power can be
accumulated only through secure national borders. Take Communist
China: Before strongman Deng Xiaoping launched
the economic-modernization program,
Beijing
already had developed its first
intercontinental-range
ballistic missile (ICBM) with nuclear-warhead capability. With the security
provided by such capability, it began building economic power, generating in
the process lots of additional resources for acquiring military muscle. But
India, in the
21st century, does not have an ICBM even on the design board.

More
broadly, Indian policymakers have yet to recognize that no nation can be a
major power without three attributes: A high level of autonomous and innovative
technological capability; a capacity to meet basic defense needs indigenously;
and a capability to project power far beyond its borders, especially through
intercontinental-range weaponry.
India is deficient in all the three
areas.

It is not an accident that all the countries armed
with intercontinental-range ballistic missiles (ICBMs) are permanent members of
the UN Security Council. But rather than aim for a technological leap through a
crash ICBM
 program, India
remains interminably stuck in the Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missile (IRBM)
stage. It is still trying to master a missile-strike range of 3,000 kilometers.

In
fact, in
an action that ominously harks back to the 1991-95 period when Manmohan
Singh as finance minister starved the nuclear programme of necessary funds for
expansion, the government’s 2008-09 budget slashed the Department of Atomic
Energy’s funding by $529 million. No explanation was offered to the nation.
Under the nuclear deal, the government has agreed to voluntarily shut down by
next year one of the country’s two bomb-grade plutonium-production reactors,
the Cirus, although current international estimates of India’s weapons-grade
fissile material stockpile put its quantity just marginally higher than
Pakistan’s.

More than a decade after Pokhran II, India doesn’t
have much to celebrate. Nuclear diffidence continues to hold it down. It still
doesn’t have minimal, let alone, credible deterrence. Its military asymmetry
with China has grown to the extent that many in its policymaking community seem
to be losing faith in the country’s ability to defend itself with its own
means.

Against this background, the latest claim that the
1998 thermonuclear test performed well under par can only further damage the
credibility of India’s
 nuclear posture. The controversy over the thermonuclear test,
however, is nothing new. No sooner had the test been conducted than a former
head of the Indian
 nuclear program, P.K. Iyengar, questioned official claims of
success.

In such a setting — with critics within and
outside the country questioning the success of the test — India must be ready
to convincingly re-demonstrate its thermonuclear capability, should a
propitious international opportunity arise from a
 nuclear test
conducted by another power.
 Nuclear deterrence, after all, is like beauty: It lies in the
eyes of the beholder. It is not what India’s
 nuclear establishment
claims but what outsiders, especially regional adversaries, believe that
constitutes deterrence (or the lack of it).

Brahma Chellaney is one of India’s leading nuclear and
strategic affairs experts.

(c) India Abroad, 2009.

Eight years after 9/11: America’s Afghan options

U.S. exit from Afghanistan to bring gains

Brahma Chellaney

An Afghan shopkeeper looks through his shop supplies as he waits for customers in the city of Jalalabad, Afghanistan.

An American military exit from Afghanistan, far from boosting the global-jihad syndicate, is likely to trigger developments largely internal or regional in nature while aiding the global fight against terrorism.

The Hindu newspaper, September 11, 2009

America’s war in Afghanistan is approaching a tipping point, with doubts about President Barack Obama’s strategy rising and three-quarters of the Democratic voters polled opposing continued U.S. combat operations there. Even the main war proponent — the Republican camp — seems split, with prominent conservative voices like George F. Will and Chuck Hagel now calling for an American pullout. Yet Mr. Obama, after dispatching 21,000 additional U.S. forces to Afghanistan, is planning to send another 14,000 combat troops while outsourcing military-support jobs there to create an illusion of no new surge.

Mr. Obama, clearly, is in a major predicament over a war he inherited, with no workable options for him to stabilise Afghanistan by next year or even to pull out military forces while saving face. Still, he is deepening American involvement there, thereby spurring serious apprehensions at home. Eight years after 9/11, an American invasion that started with the objective of winning the war on terror is in danger of becoming Mr. Obama’s Vietnam — a quagmire with a confused political mission.

Vice-President Joe Biden has warned that “more loss” of U.S. lives is “inevitable,” while Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff, has admitted, “The enemy’s getting better and tougher. And we need to turn that around in the next 12 to 18 months.” That was exactly the timeframe Mr. Obama had in mind when he launched the military surge. But with every month now proving more deadly, a war-weary U.S. public and Congress may be reluctant to patiently wait that long for the promised turnaround. The Obama narrative — that this is the war of necessity, unlike Iraq — is coming under growing attack.

Put simply, Mr. Obama’s ambitious new war strategy, including doubling the number of American troops on the ground and replacing the top U.S. general in Afghanistan, isn’t working. Not only are more American soldiers dying in Afghanistan than in Iraq, but there has been a 1,000 per cent increase in IED attacks by Afghan militants since mid-2005. It is the alarming rise in the sophistication and frequency of roadside bomb attacks that has made the Afghan war increasingly bloody. Mr. Obama also has been locked in a losing battle in the other part of his Afpak strategy — to win hearts and minds in Pakistan through an unprecedented aid flow to that country.

Let’s be clear: America’s Afghan war is just not winnable for two main reasons. Firstly, Mr. Obama has redefined U.S. goals too narrowly. America’s primary goal now is not to defeat the Taliban but to prevent the al-Qaeda from using Afghanistan as a base to launch an attack on the United States. Mr. Obama candidly told the Associated Press in a July 2 interview: “I have a very narrow definition of success when it comes to our national security interests, and that is that al-Qaeda and its affiliates cannot set up safe havens from which to attack America.” But the al-Qaeda is not really a factor in the Afghan war, where the principal combatants are the American military and the Taliban, with its associated militias and private armies. Rather than seek to defeat the Taliban, Washington indeed has encouraged the Pakistani, Afghan and Saudi intelligence to hold proxy negotiations with the Taliban’s top leadership, holed up in Quetta.

Secondly, the U.S. is fighting the wrong war. Eight years after the American invasion drove the al-Qaeda leaders from Afghanistan, Pakistan has emerged as the main base and sanctuary for transnational terrorists. Support and sustenance for the Taliban and many other Afghan militants also come from inside Pakistan. Yet Mr. Obama pursues a military surge in Afghanistan but an aid surge to Pakistan, to the extent that Islamabad is being made the single largest recipient of U.S. assistance in the world.

In that light, Mr. Obama’s war strategy is questionable. Given that he has abandoned his predecessor’s goal to defeat the Taliban and capture dead or alive its one-eyed leader, Mullah Mohammad Omar, his move to induct even more American troops stirs widespread concern.

To defeat the al-Qaeda, the U.S. doesn’t need a troop build-up — certainly not in Afghanistan. Without a large ground force in Afghanistan or even major ground operations, the U.S. can hold the al-Qaeda remnants at bay in their havens in the mountainous tribal regions of Pakistan through covert operations, Predator drones and cruise-missile attacks. Isn’t that precisely what the CIA already is doing, having killed more than a dozen suspected Qaeda figures in Pakistan in recent drone and missile attacks?

Actually, the U.S. intelligence believes that the al-Qaeda already is badly fragmented and weakened and thus is in no position to openly challenge American interests. According to the latest Annual Threat Assessment of the Intelligence Community, “Because of the pressure we and our allies have put on Al Qaeda’s core leadership in Pakistan … Al Qaeda today is less capable and effective than it was a year ago.”

Had the Obama goal been to rout the Taliban, a further military surge may have made sense because a resurgent Taliban can be defeated only through major ground operations, not by air-strikes and covert actions alone. Yet, having abandoned the international goal of institution-building in Afghanistan by equating it with nation-building, the Obama administration presses ahead with a “clear, hold, build” strategy. When the administration’s principal war target is not the Taliban but the al-Qaeda remnants on the run, why chase a troop-intensive strategy pivoted on protecting population centres to win grassroots support? In reality, what it calls a “clear, hold, build” strategy is actually a “surge, bribe, run” strategy, except that the muddled nature of the mission and the deepening U.S. involvement crimp the “run” option.

America’s quandary is a reminder that it is easier to get into a war than to get out. In fact, Mr. Obama undermined his own unfolding war strategy last March by publicly declaring, “There’s got to be an exit strategy.” The message it sent to the Taliban and its sponsor, the Pakistani military, was that they ought to simply outwait the Americans to reclaim Afghanistan.

Before Afghanistan becomes a Vietnam-style quagmire for the U.S., Mr. Obama must rethink his plan for another troop surge. Gradually drawing down U.S. troop levels indeed makes more sense because what holds the disparate constituents of the Taliban syndicate together is a common opposition to foreign military presence.

An American military exit from Afghanistan will not come as a shot in the arm for the forces of global jihad, as many in Washington seem to fear. To the contrary, it will remove the common unifying element and unleash developments whose significance would be largely internal or regional. In Afghanistan, a vicious power struggle would break out along sectarian and ethnic lines.

The Taliban, with the active support of the Pakistani military, would certainly make a run for Kabul to replay the 1996 power grab. But it won’t be easy to repeat 1996. For one, the Taliban is too splintered today, with the tail (private armies and militias) wagging the dog. For another, the non-Taliban and non-Pashtun forces now are stronger, more organised and better prepared than in 1996 to resist the Taliban’s advance to Kabul, having been empowered by the autonomy they have enjoyed in provinces or by the offices they still hold in the Afghan federal government. By retaining Afghan bases to carry out covert operations and Predator missions and other air-strikes, the U.S. military would be able to unleash punitive air power to prevent a 1996 repeat. After all, it was the combination of American air power and Northern Alliance’s ground operations that ousted the Taliban from power in 2001.

In fact, the most likely outcome of the Afghan power struggle triggered by an American decision to pull out would be the formalisation of the present de facto partition of Afghanistan along ethnic lines. Iraq, too, is headed in the same direction. The Tajiks, Uzbeks, Hazaras and other ethnic minorities would be able to ensure self-governance in the Afghan areas they dominate, leaving the Pashtun lands on both sides of the Durand Line in ferment. Thanks to ethnic polarisation, the Durand Line today exists only in maps. On the ground, it has little political, ethnic and economic relevance, and it will be militarily impracticable to re-impose the line.

As in Iraq, an American withdrawal would potentially let loose forces of Balkanisation in the Afpak belt. That may sound disturbing. But this would be an unintended and perhaps unstoppable consequence of the U.S. invasion.

An American pullout would also aid the fight against international terrorism. Instead of staying bogged down in Afghanistan and seeking to cajole and bribe the Pakistani military from continuing to provide succour to Islamic militants, Washington would become free to pursue a broader and more balanced counterterrorism strategy. Also, minus the Afghan-war burden, the U.S. would better appreciate the dangers to international security posed by Pakistani terror groups like the Lashkar-e-Taiba and the Jaish-e-Mohammed. The threat of an Islamist takeover of Pakistan comes not from the Taliban but from these groups that have long drawn support from the Pakistani army as part of a deep-rooted military-mullah alliance.

(Brahma Chellaney is Professor of Strategic Studies at the Centre for Policy Research in New Delhi.)

Is China itching to wage war on India?

India’s Growing China Angst
Largely unknown to the rest of the world, China-India border tensions have escalated in recent months, raising the specter of armed conflict along the Himalayas
 
By Brahma Chellaney

Far Eastern Economic Review (September 2009)

At a time when the global power structure is qualitatively being transformed, the economic rise of China and India draws ever more attention. But the world has taken little notice of the rising border tensions and sharpening geopolitical rivalry between the two giants that represent competing political and social models of development.

China and India have had little political experience historically in dealing with each other. After all, China became India’s neighbor not owing to geography but guns — by forcibly occupying buffer Tibet in 1950. As new neighbors, India and China have been on a learning curve. Their 32-day war in 1962 did not settle matters because China’s dramatic triumph only sowed the seeds of greater rivalry.

In recent months, hopes of a politically negotiated settlement of the lingering territorial disputes have dissipated amid muscle-flexing along the long, 4,057-kilometer Himalayan frontier. A clear indication that the 28-year-old border talks now are deadlocked came when the most-recent round in August turned into a sweeping strategic dialogue on regional and international issues. The escalation in border tensions, though, has prompted an agreement to set up a direct hotline between the two prime ministers. A hotline, however welcome, may not be enough to defuse a situation marked by rising military incursions and other border-related incidents as well as by new force deployments.

A perceptible hardening of China’s stance toward India is at the hub of the bilateral tensions. This hardening became apparent almost three years ago when the Chinese ambassador to India publicly raked up the issue of Arunachal Pradesh, the northeastern Indian state that Beijing calls “Southern Tibet” and claims as its own. For his undiplomatic act on the eve of President Hu Jintao’s New Delhi visit, the ambassador actually received Beijing’s public support. Since then, the Indian army has seen Chinese military incursions increase in frequency across the post-1962 line of control. According to Indian defense officials, there were 270 line-of-control violations by the People’s Liberation Army and 2,285 instances of “aggressive border patrolling” by it last year alone. Other border incidents also are being reported, such as the PLA demolition of some unmanned Indian forward posts at the Tibet-Bhutan-Sikkim trijunction and Chinese attempts to encroach on Indian-held land in Ladakh.

As a result, the India-China frontier has become more “hot” than the India-Pakistan border, but without rival troops trading fire. Indeed, Sino-Indian border tensions now are at their worst since 1986-87, when local military skirmishes broke out after PLA troops moved south of a rivulet marking the line of control in the Sumdorong Chu sector in Arunachal Pradesh. Those skirmishes brought war clouds over the horizon before the two countries moved quickly to defuse the crisis. Today, PLA forays into Indian-held territory are occurring even in the only area where Beijing does not dispute the frontier — Sikkim’s 206-kilometer border with Tibet. Chinese troops repeatedly have attempted to gain control of Sikkim’s evocatively named Finger Area, a tiny but key strategic location.

In response, India has been beefing up its defensive deployments in Arunachal Pradesh, Sikkim and Ladakh to prevent any Chinese land-grab. Besides bringing in tanks to reinforce its defenses in mountainous Sikkim, it is deploying two additional army mountain divisions and two squadrons of the advanced Sukhoi-30 MKI bomber-aircraft in its northeastern state of Assam, backed by three airborne warning and control systems. To improve its logistical capabilities, it has launched a crash program involving new roads, airstrips and advanced landing stations along the Himalayas. None of these steps, however, can materially alter the fact that China holds the military advantage on the ground. Its forces control the heights along the frontier, with the Indian troops perched largely on the lower levels. Furthermore, by building modern railroads, airports and highways in Tibet, China is now in a position to rapidly move large additional forces to the border to potentially strike at India at a time of Beijing’s choosing.

Diplomatically, China is content, long having occupied land at will — principally the Aksai Chin plateau, which is almost the size of Switzerland. Aksai Chin, an integral part of Kashmir long before Xinjiang became a province of China under Manchu rule, provides the only accessible Tibet-Xinjiang route through the Karakoram passes of the Kunlun Mountains. Yet Beijing chooses to press claims on additional Indian territories as part of a grand strategy to keep India under military and diplomatic pressure.

Since ancient times, the Himalayas have universally been regarded as the northern frontiers of India. But having annexed Tibet, China has laid claim to areas far to the south of this Himalayan watershed, as underscored by its claim to Arunachal Pradesh — a state nearly three times the size of Taiwan. That Tibet remains at the core of the India-China divide is being underlined by Beijing itself as its claim to additional Indian territories is based on alleged Tibetan ecclesial or tutelary links to them, not any professed Han connection. Such attempts at incremental annexation actually draw encouragement from India’s self-injurious acceptance of Tibet as part of the People’s Republic of China.

At the center of the Chinese strategy is an overt refusal to accept the territorial status quo. In not hiding its intent to further redraw the frontiers, Beijing only highlights the futility of political negotiations. After all, the status quo can be changed not through political talks but by further military conquest. Yet, paradoxically, the political process remains important for Beijing to provide the façade of engagement while trying to change the realities on the ground. Keeping India engaged in endless, fruitless border talks while stepping up direct and surrogate pressure also chimes with China’s projection of its “peaceful rise.”

But as border tensions have escalated, vituperative attacks on India in the Chinese media have mounted. The Communist Party’s mouthpiece, the People’s Daily, taunted India in a June editorial for lagging behind China in all indices of power and asked it to consider “the consequences of a potential confrontation with China.” Criticizing the Indian moves to strengthen defenses, it peremptorily declared: “China won’t make any compromises in its border disputes with India.” A subsequent commentary in the paper warned India to stop playing into the hands of “some Western powers” by raising the bogey of a “China threat.”

The most-provocative Chinese essay, however, appeared on China International Strategy Net, a quasi-official Web site that enjoys the Communist Party’s backing and is run by an individual who made his name by hacking into United States” government Web sites in retaliation to the 1999 American bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade. Posted on August 8, the essay called for a Chinese strategy to dismember multiethnic India into 20 to 30 fragments. This is an old, failed project China launched in the Mao years when it trained and armed Naga, Mizo and other tribal guerrillas in India’s restive northeast.

The strains in Sino-Indian relations also have resulted from sharpening geopolitical rivalry. This was evident from China’s botched 2008 effort to stymie the U.S.-India nuclear deal by blocking the Nuclear Suppliers Group from opening civilian nuclear trade with New Delhi. In the NSG, China landed itself in a position it avoids in any international body — as the last holdout. Recently, there has been an outcry in India over attempts to undermine the Indian brand through exports from China of fake pharmaceutical products labeled “Made in India.”

The unsettled border, however, remains at the core of the bilateral tensions. Indeed, 47 years later, the wounds of the 1962 war have been kept open by China’s aggressive claims to additional Indian territories. Even as China has emerged as India’s largest trading partner, the Sino-Indian strategic dissonance and border disputes have become more pronounced. New Delhi has sought to retaliate against Beijing’s growing antagonism by banning Chinese toys and cell phones that do not meet international standards. But such modest trade actions can do little to persuade Beijing to abandon its moves to strategically encircle and squeeze India by employing China’s rising clout in Pakistan, Burma, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal.

In fact, the question that needs to be asked is whether New Delhi helped create the context to embolden Beijing to be assertive and bellicose. For long, New Delhi has indulged in ritualized happy talk about the state of its relationship with Beijing, brushing under the rug both long-standing and new problems and hyping the outcome of any bilateral summit meeting. New Delhi now is staring at the harvest of a mismanagement of relations with China over the past two decades by successive governments that chose propitiation to leverage building. New Delhi is so slow to correct its course that mistakes only get compounded. For example: India is to observe 2010 — the 60th anniversary of China becoming India’s neighbor by gobbling up Tibet — as the “Year of Friendship with China.”

Yet another question relates to China’s intention. In muscling up to India, is China seeking to intimidate India or actually fashion an option to wage war on India? In other words, are China’s present-day autocrats itching to see a repeat of 1962? The present situation, in several key aspects, is no different from the one that prevailed in the run-up to the 1962 invasion of India, which then Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai declared was designed “to teach India a lesson.” Consider the numerous parallels:

First, like ike in the pre-1962 war period, it has become commonplace internationally to speak of India and China in the same breadth. The aim of “Mao’s India war,” as Harvard scholar Roderick MacFarquhar has called it, was large political: To cut India to size by demolishing what it represented — a democratic alternative to the Chinese autocracy. The swiftness and force with which Mao Zedong defeated India helped discredit the Indian model, boost China’s international image and consolidate Mao’s internal power. The return of the China-India pairing decades later is something Beijing viscerally detests.

The Dalai Lama’s flight to India in 1959 — and the ready sanctuary he got there — paved the way for the Chinese military attack. Today, 50 years after his escape, the exiled Tibetan leader stands as a bigger challenge than ever for China, as underscored by Beijing’s stepped-up vilification campaign against him and its admission that it is now locked in a “life and death struggle” over Tibet. With Beijing now treating the Dalai Lama as its Enemy No. 1, India has come under greater Chinese pressure to curb his activities and those of his government-in-exile. The continuing security clampdown in Tibet since the March 2008 Tibetan uprising parallels the harsh Chinese crackdown in Tibet during 1959-62.

In addition, the present pattern of crossfrontier incursions and other border incidents, as well as new force deployments and mutual recriminations, is redolent of the situation that prevailed before the 1962 war. When the PLA marched hundreds of miles south to occupy the then-independent Tibet and later nibble at Indian territories, this supposedly was neither an expansionist strategy nor a forward policy. But when the ill-equipped and short-staffed Indian army belatedly sought to set up posts along India’s unmanned Himalayan frontier to try and stop further Chinese encroachments, Beijing and its friends dubbed it a provocative “forward policy.” In the same vein, the present Indian efforts to beef up defenses in the face of growing PLA crossborder forays are being labeled “new forward policy” by Beijing.

Moreover, the 1962 war occurred against the backdrop of China instigating and arming insurgents in India’s northeast. Though such activities ceased after Mao’s 1976 death, China seems to be coming full circle today, with Chinese-made arms increasingly flowing into guerrilla ranks in northeastern India, including via Burmese front organizations. India says it has taken up this matter with Beijing at the foreign minister-level. While a continuing 12-year-old ceasefire has brought peace to Nagaland, some other Indian states like Assam and Manipur are racked by multiple insurgencies, allowing Beijing to fish in troubled waters.

Finally, just as India had retreated to a defensive position in the border negotiations with Beijing in the early 1960s after having undermined its leverage through a formal acceptance of the “Tibet region of China,” New Delhi similarly has been left in the unenviable position today of having to fend off Chinese territorial demands. Whatever leverage India still had on the Tibet issue was surrendered in 2003 when it shifted its position from Tibet being an “autonomous” region within China to it being “part of the territory of the People’s Republic of China.” Little surprise the spotlight now is on China’s Tibet-linked claim to Arunachal Pradesh than on Tibet’s status itself.

This is why Beijing invested so much political capital over the years in getting India to gradually accept Tibet as part of China. Its success on that score has helped narrow the dispute to what it claims. That neatly meshes with China’s long-standing negotiating stance: What it occupies is Chinese territory, and what it claims must be shared — or as it puts it in reasonably sounding terms, though a settlement based on “mutual accommodation and mutual understanding.” So, while publicly laying claim to the whole of Arunachal Pradesh, China in private is asking India to cede at least that state’s strategic Tawang Valley — a critical corridor between Lhasa and Assam of immense military import because it overlooks the chicken-neck that connects India’s northeast with the rest of the country.

In fact, with the Dalai Lama having publicly repudiated Chinese claims that Arunachal Pradesh, or even just Tawang, was part of Tibet, a discomfited Beijing sought to impress upon his representatives in the now-suspended dialogue process that for any larger political deal to emerge, the Tibetan government-in-exile must support China’s position that Arunachal has been part of traditional Tibet. The plain fact is that with China’s own claim to Tibet being historically dubious, its claims to Indian territories are doubly suspect.

Today, as India gets sucked into a pre-1962-style trap, history is in danger of repeating itself. The issue then was Aksai Chin; the issue now is Arunachal. But India is still reluctant to shine a spotlight on Tibet as the lingering core issue. Even though Tibet has ceased to be the political buffer between India and China, it needs to become the political bridge between the world’s two most-populous countries. For that to happen, Beijing has to begin a process of reconciliation and healing in Tibet.

Internationally, there are several factors contributing to China’s greater assertiveness toward India as part of an apparent strategy to prevent the rise of a peer rival in Asia. First, India’s growing strategic ties with the United States are more than offset by America’s own rising interdependence with China, to the extent that U.S. policy now gives Beijing a pass on its human-rights abuses, frenetic military buildup at home and reckless strategic opportunism abroad. America’s Asia policy is no longer guided by an overarching geopolitical framework as it had been under President George W. Bush, a fact reflected by the Obama administration’s silence on the China-India border tensions.

In addition, the significant improvement in China’s own relations with Taiwan and Japan since last year has given Beijing more space against India. A third factor is the weakening of China’s Pakistan card against India. Pakistan’s descent into chaos has robbed China of its premier surrogate instrument against India, necessitating the exercise of direct pressure.

Against this background, India can expect no respite from Chinese pressure. Whether Beijing actually sets out to teach India “the final lesson” by launching a 1962-style surprise war will depend on several calculations, including India’s defense preparedness to repel such an attack, domestic factors within China and the availability of a propitious international timing of the type the Cuban missile crisis provided 47 years ago. But if India is not to be caught napping again, it has to inject greater realism into its China policy by shedding self-deluding shibboleths, shoring up its deterrent capabilities and putting premium on leveraged diplomacy.

Brahma Chellaney is professor of strategic studies at the privately funded Center for Policy Research in New Delhi.

Reengage Burma

U.S. should engage Burma

By BRAHMA CHELLANEY

The Japan Times August 29, 2009

Driven by their legendary pioneering spirit, Americans have a penchant to do dangerous things and then create an international crisis if they get arrested. Just consider the events of recent months: Two female journalists stray into North Korea; three students trekking in Iraq lose their way into Iran; and a military veteran suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder enters Burma illegally and then swims three kilometers across a lake to sneak into opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi’s heavily guarded home. He spends two days at Suu Kyi’s home — even though she is supposed to be under house arrest — to warn her that he had had a vision in which she was killed by terrorists.

What is more bizarre is that such adventures were directed at the three countries that currently face the most-severe U.S. sanctions. These nations thus had no reason to be amused by the exploits, let alone to pardon the individuals.

In fact, by rendering its sanctions instrument blunt through overuse, Washington has dissipated its leverage against Burma, North Korea and Iran and run out of viable options. The new U.S. administration, therefore, has wisely sought to open lines of communication with these countries and review policy options.

The humanitarian imperative to help free jailed Americans provided the impetus to this political undertaking. The individuals’ dangerous exploits thus came as a blessing in disguise for U.S. diplomacy, presenting an opportunity to try and open the door to engagement while providing the humanitarian shield to deflect attacks by hard-line critics at home.

Just this month, even as the White House kept up the pretence that these were “private, humanitarian missions unlinked to U.S. policies,” the United States was able to reopen lines of communication with North Korea and Burma, with ex-President Bill Clinton’s trip to Pyongyang winning the release of the two women and Senator James Webb’s lower-profile mission to Rangoon and Naypyidaw, the new Burmese capital, actually yielding more tangible political results. Webb also secured the release of the ex-military man who was recently convicted and sentenced to seven years in hard labor.

A formal U.S. opening to Iran, however, would have to await the outcome of the current intense struggle for supremacy there among those empowered by the 1979 Islamic Revolution.

Let’s be clear: U.S. policy increasingly has pushed Burma into China’s strategic lap through an uncompromisingly penal approach since the mid-1990s — to the extent that the Bush administration began turning to Beijing as a channel of communication with the junta, even though the U.S. has maintained non-ambassadorial diplomatic relations with Burma, unlike with Iran and North Korea. A policy that has the perverse effect of weakening America’s hand while strengthening China’s, clearly, demands a reappraisal.

The weight of the U.S.-led sanctions has fallen squarely on the ordinary Burmese, while the military remains largely unaffected. The sanctions-only approach indeed has made it less likely that the seeds of democracy will sprout in a stunted economy.

The U.S. also cannot forget that democratization of an autocratic state is a challenge that extends beyond Burma. Democracy promotion thus should not become a geopolitical tool wielded only against the weak and the marginalized.

Can one principle be applied to the world’s largest autocracy, China — that engagement is the way to bring about political change — but an opposite principle centered on sanctions remain in force against impoverished Burma? Going after the small kids on the global bloc but courting the most-powerful autocrats is hardly the way to build international norms.

Against this background, the Obama administration is doing the right thing by exploring the prospect of a gradual U.S. reengagement with Burma, with American diplomats holding two separate meetings with the Burmese foreign minister in recent months. Webb’s Burma mission was a big boost in that direction.

Webb, who heads the Senate Foreign Relations Subcommittee on East Asia and Pacific Affairs, held separate face-to-face discussions with the junta’s top leader, Gen. Than Shwe, and Prime Minister Gen. Thein Sein. He also was allowed to meet Suu Kyi, just weeks after UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon had been denied such a meeting.

In fact, after Suu Kyi was convicted of violating the terms of her house detention by sheltering the American intruder, the junta instantly commuted her sentence to allow her to return to her villa and not spend time in a jail. If Suu Kyi were to reverse her decision to boycott next year’s national elections, the generals might even be willing to lift her house detention. In any case, Suu Kyi remains free to leave the country, but on a one-way ticket.

The elections are unlikely to be free and fair. But make no mistake: By agreeing to hold the polls, the military is implicitly creating a feeling of empowerment among the people. However unintended, the message citizens will draw is that the next government’s legitimacy depends on them. Which other entrenched autocracy in the world is offering to empower its citizens to vote on a new government?

The electoral process creates space for the Burmese democracy movement. The regime will have to allow political parties to campaign and take their message to the people. That, in turn, will allow the parties to galvanize support for democratic transition. Getting a foot in is necessary before the door to political change can be forced open.

That is why many parties representing the large ethnic minorities have decided to participate in the elections, even though the polls will be fought on the skewed terms set by the military. If Suu Kyi stays out, she and the aging leadership of her party, the National League for Democracy, will miss an important opportunity for the democracy movement to assert itself under the military’s own rules.

Just the way Washington today is reassessing its hard line toward Burma, India was compelled to shift course after a decade of foreign-policy activism from the late 1980s — but not before paying dearly. In the period New Delhi broke off all contact with the junta and became a hub of Burmese dissident activity, China strategically penetrated Burma, opening a new flank against India. That period’s sobering lessons have helped instill greater geopolitical realism in Indian policy. While still seeking political reconciliation and democratic transition in Burma, New Delhi now espouses constructive engagement with the junta.

After all, years of sanctions have left Burma bereft of an entrepreneurial class but saddled with the military as the only functioning institution. That means a “color revolution” is unlikely and that democratic transition will be a painfully incremental process.

Brahma Chellaney, a professor of strategic studies at the New Delhi-based Center for Policy Research, is a regular contributor to The Japan Times.

The Japan Times: Saturday, Aug. 29, 2009

(C) All rights reserved

Renewed controversy: India’s thermonuclear test

Make nuclear programme accountable

By Brahma Chellaney
The Economic Times, August 28, 2009


India’s cosseted nuclear programme has been shielded from parliamentary scrutiny and CAG audit. So, it is hard to reliably determine whether India’s sole thermonuclear test fizzled out quickly or was a success, however modest. But some facts speak for themselves.

One telling fact is that more than 11 years later, India has still not weaponized the thermonuclear technology, even though the test in 1998 was supposed to have catapulted the country into the big-power league. The thermonuclear test, obviously, was not intended merely as a technology demonstrator. Therefore, it is legitimate to ask: What has been the security benefit for the country from that test?

Even more glaring is another fact: More than 35 years after Pokharan I, India stands out as a reluctant and tentative nuclear power, still lacking even a barely minimal deterrent capability against China. Given the growing military asymmetry with China, a proven and weaponized Indian thermonuclear capability, backed by long-range missiles, is critical to deter the assertive and ambitious northern neighbour. But today, India does not have a single Beijing-reachable missile in deployment.

Had India developed and deployed a minimal but credible nuclear-weapons capability, China would not have dared to mess with it. But the increasing Chinese bellicosity, reflected in rising border incursions and the hardening of Beijing’s stance on territorial disputes, suggests China is only getting emboldened against a weaker India.

Consider yet another unpalatable fact: No country has struggled longer to build a minimal deterrent or paid heavier international costs for its nuclear programme than India.  The history of India’s nuclear-weapons programme is actually a record of how it helped establish multilateral technology controls. Pokharan I, for example, impelled the secret formation of the Nuclear Suppliers Group (NSG). India’s space programme helped give birth to the Missile Technology Control Regime.

Yet, before it has built a credible minimal deterrent, India came full circle when it entered into a civilian nuclear deal with the US and secured an exemption from the NSG last year to import high-priced commercial nuclear power reactors and fuel. In doing so, it had to accept nonproliferation conditions that aim to stunt its nuclear-deterrent development.

Through this deal, India is seeking to replicate in the energy sector the very mistake it has made on armaments. Now the world’s largest arms importer, India spends more than $6 billion every year on importing conventional weapons, some  of dubious value, while it neglects to build its own armament-production base.

Conventional weapons simply cannot deter a nuclear adversary. Deterrence against a nuclear foe can only be built on nuclear capability, especially a second-strike capability that can survive the enemy’s first strike to inflict massive retaliation.

More broadly, Indian policymakers have yet to recognize that no nation can be a major power without three attributes: A high level of autonomous and innovative technological capability; a capacity to meet basic defence needs indigenously; and a capability to project power far beyond its borders, especially through intercontinental-range weaponry. India is deficient in all the three areas.

It is not an accident that all the countries armed with intercontinental-range ballistic missiles (ICBMs) are permanent members of the UN Security Council. But rather than aim for a technological leap through a crash ICBM programme, India remains interminably stuck in the Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missile (IRBM) stage.

Against this background, the latest claim that the 1998 thermonuclear test performed well under par can only further damage the credibility of India’s nuclear posture. The controversy over the thermonuclear test, however, is nothing new. No sooner had the test been conducted than a former head of the Indian nuclear programme, P.K. Iyengar, questioned official claims of success.

In such a setting — with critics within and outside the country questioning the success of the test — India must be ready to convincingly re-demonstrate its thermonuclear capability, should a propitious international opportunity arise from a nuclear test conducted by another power. Nuclear deterrence, after all, is like beauty: It lies in the eyes of the beholder. It is not what India’s nuclear establishment claims but what outsiders, especially regional adversaries, believe that constitutes deterrence (or the lack of it).


Brahma Chellaney is a nuclear and strategic affairs expert.


The right path on Burma: Constructive engagement

Open new doors

Brahma Chellaney

DNA newspaper, August 21, 2009 

Burma, or Myanmar as its military junta calls it, is a country of critical importance to next-door India. The West can afford to pursue a punitive approach towards a Burma located far away because it has little at stake there.

That explains why the West applies one principle to the world’s largest autocracy, China — that engagement is the best way to bring about political change — but an opposite principle centred on sanctions to an impoverished Burma. In doing so, it unfortunately exposes democracy promotion as a geopolitical tool usually wielded against the weak and the marginalised.

Going after the small kids on the global block but courting the most-powerful autocrats is hardly the way to build international norms. India simply cannot afford to shut itself out of Burma, or else — with an increasingly bellicose China to the north, a China-allied Pakistan on the west, a Chinese-influenced Burma to the east and growing Chinese naval interest in the Indian Ocean — it will get fully encircled.

In that light, India must be pleased with the Obama administration’s tentative process of re-engagement with Burma, a strategically located country that US policy has increasingly pushed into China’s lap through an uncompromisingly penal approach since the mid-1990s.

The Obama team, reviewing US policy, has been exploring the prospect of gradual re-engagement with Burma, with American diplomats holding two separate meetings with the Burmese foreign minister.

A big step towards re-engagement came last weekend when senator James Webb visited Rangoon and Naypyidaw, the new Burmese capital. Webb, who heads the Senate Foreign Relations Subcommittee on East Asia and Pacific Affairs, secured the release of an American military veteran who was recently convicted and sentenced to seven years of hard labour for illegally entering Burma and then swimming 3km across a lake to sneak into opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi’s heavily guarded home.

Driven by their legendary pioneering spirit, Americans do dangerous things and then create international crises over their arrests: Two female journalists strayed into North Korea; three students lost their way into Iran; and an ex-military man suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder swam a lake and spent two days at Suu Kyi’s home to supposedly warn her that he had had a vision in which she was killed by terrorists.

Their adventures, significantly, were directed at the three countries that face the most-severe US sanctions. But having over-employed the sanctions tool, Washington has dissipated its leverage against Burma, North Korea and Iran and run out of viable options.

Little surprise the new US administration has sought to open lines of communication with these countries. The humanitarian imperative to help free jailed Americans has provided the impetus to this political endeavour. The individuals’ dangerous exploits thus were a blessing in disguise for the US diplomacy, presenting an opportunity to try and open the door to engagement and providing the humanitarian shield to deflect attacks by those opposed to compromise.

Just this month, the US was able to reopen lines of communication with North Korea and Burma, with Bill Clinton’s trip to Pyongyang winning the release of the two women and Webb’s lower-profile mission actually yielding more tangible political results. A formal US opening to Iran, however, would have to await the outcome of the current intense power struggle there.

Webb held face-to-face discussions with the junta’s top leader, general Than Shwe. He also was allowed to meet Suu Kyi, just weeks after the UN secretary-general had been denied such a meeting. In fact, after Suu Kyi was convicted of violating the terms of her house detention by sheltering the American intruder, the junta instantly commuted her sentence to allow her to return to her villa and not spend time in a jail.

If Suu Kyi were to reverse her decision to boycott next year’s national elections, the generals might even be willing to lift her house detention. In any case, Suu Kyi is free to leave the country, but on a one-way ticket.

Just the way Washington today is reassessing its hardline towards Burma, India was compelled to shift course after a decade of foreign-policy activism from the late 1980s — but not before paying dearly. In the period New Delhi broke off all contact with the junta and became a hub of Burmese dissident activity, China strategically penetrated Burma, opening a new flank against India. That period’s sobering lessons have helped instill greater geopolitical realism in Indian policy.

While still seeking political reconciliation and democratic transition in Burma, New Delhi now espouses constructive engagement with the junta. Years of sanctions have left Burma bereft of an entrepreneurial class but saddled with the military as the only functioning institution.

Brahma Chellaney is professor of strategic studies at the Centre for Policy Research, New Delhi.

http://www.dnaindia.com/opinion/main-article_open-new-doors_1284074

The myth of a homogeneous China

El falso multiculturalismo chino
Brahma Chellaney  – 16/08/2009 LA VANGUARDIA

A menos que China deje de imponer la homogeneidad cultural y la asfixia étnica, sufrirá problemas internos

Tras envolver militarmente la región de Xinjiang, rica en petróleo, es posible que las autoridades chinas hayan sofocado la revuelta uigur. Sin embargo, este episodio, el más mortífero de las manifestaciones de minorías étnicas registradas a lo largo de decenios – junto con el levantamiento que tuvo lugar en la meseta tibetana-muestra los costes políticos de la absorción étnica forzosa y hace trizas el espejismo de una China monolítica. Las políticas de absorción forzosa en Tíbet y Xinjiang, ricos en petróleo, dieron comienzo después de que el hombre fuerte del país, Mao Tse Tung, creara un corredor de enlace entre las dos regiones rebeldes engullendo la zona india de Aksai Chin, de 38.000 km2,parte del Estado de Jammu y Cachemira. En la actualidad, alrededor de un 60% del territorio de la República Popular China comprende territorios que no habían estado bajo el gobierno directo de la dinastía Han. El tamaño de China, de hecho, es el triple del que poseía bajo la última dinastía Han, la dinastía Ming, que cayó a mediados del siglo XVII. En el sentido territorial el poder Han se halla en su cenit, circunstancia simbolizada por el hecho de que la Gran Muralla se construyó a modo de perímetro de seguridad del imperio Han. 

La absorción manchú en el seno de la sociedad Han y la dilución de la población autóctona en la Mongolia interior significa que los tibetanos y los grupos étnicos musulmanes de lenguas túrquicas de Xinjiang sean los únicos grupos que quedan como núcleos resistentes. 

Sin embargo, los acontecimientos sucedidos desde el año pasado se alzan como penoso recuerdo ante los ojos de las autoridades chinas en el sentido de que su estrategia de colonización étnica y económica de la tierra tibetana y uigur está atizando un notable malestar. Mientras por una parte los esfuerzos gubernamentales para extender el uso de la lengua, cultura y poderío comercial Han han alimentado el resentimiento local, por otra el desarrollo económico en esas regiones – orientado a la explotación de sus ricos recursos-ha contribuido a marginar a la población autóctona. Mientras se deja a la población local el empleo en trabajos serviles, los colonos Han se reservan los empleos bien pagados y directivos, símbolo de la ecuación entre colonizados y colonizadores. 

Factor aún más importante, la misma supervivencia de las principales culturas de etnia no Han se ve amenazada. Desde el adoctrinamiento en la escuela y la reeducación política forzosa a la reducción drástica del suelo cultivable y de la vida monástica, el hecho es que las políticas chinas han contribuido a infundir sentimientos de sojuzgamiento y resentimiento en la población de Tíbet y Xinjiang. 

Afin de sinologizar los territorios poblados por minorías, la multifacética estrategia de Pekín comprende seis factores: alterar cartográficamente las fronteras del suelo patrio de ciertas etnias; inundar demográficamente culturas no Han, al modo como la expansión del gobierno Han sobre Manchuria, Mongolia interior y Taiwán se logró ampliamente mediante la migración durante un prolongado periodo de tiempo; reescritura de la historia para justificar el control chino; colonización económica; puesta en práctica de una hegemonía cultural susceptible de difuminar las identidades locales, y mantenimiento de la represión política. 

En el plano demográfico, Pekín no intenta un exterminio étnico en estas regiones, sino una asfixia étnica. Esta estrategia, consistente en asfixiar a la población autóctona mediante la campaña migratoria, equivale a la aniquilación cultural. 

Un primer paso en esta dirección fue la reorganización cartográfica de las regiones de residencia de minorías. Mediante una división electoral de Tíbet de acuerdo con sus propios intereses, Pekín situó la mitad de la meseta de Tíbet y casi el 60% de la población tibetana bajo jurisdicción Han en las provincias de Qinghai, Sicuani, Gansu y Yunan. El desmembramiento cartográfico de Tíbet creó el marco destinado a diluir étnicamente a los tibetanos, tanto en las áreas separadas como en el resto del Tíbet, rebautizado como "región autónoma de Tíbet". 

En el caso de la Mongolia interior, se hizo lo contrario: se amplió para incluir áreas Han como la región de Henao a fin de reducir a los mongoles a una minoría e impedir cualquier demanda o aspiración (inspirándose en el deseo de China de unificación con Taiwán) en el sentido de la unificación de las dos Mongolias. 

En la actualidad, las lenguas tibetana y uigur están desapareciendo ya de las escuelas locales a medida que las autoridades las retiran del currículo académico. Y, como parte integrante de la estrategia de absorción forzosa, las familias de las minorías étnicas son obligadas a enviar al menos a un miembro de la familia a trabajar en fábricas situadas en distantes provincias Han o a enfrentarse de lo contrario a una multa de dos mil yuanes, alrededor de doscientos euros. Se anima sobre todo a las jóvenes de minorías a trasladarse a provincias Han y casarse con un Han como parte del programa de absorción patrocinado por el Estado. La rápida sinologización, sin embargo, no ha hecho más que agudizar el sentido de identidad y ansia de libertad tibetana y uigur. 

La principal idea directriz del sistema chino sigue siendo la uniformidad, como señala el eslogan del presidente Hu Jintao relativo a una "sociedad armoniosa" concebida para reforzar la cuestión de la adhesión social. Apenas es de extrañar que la respuesta pública de Hu al malestar uigur consistiera en pedir a las autoridades locales que "aislaran y asestaran un golpe" a los agitadores, en lugar de ir a las causas del descontento. 

Mientras India aplaude la diversidad, China rinde tributo a un monoculturalismo artificialmente impuesto, aunque incluye oficialmente 56 nacionalidades, la nacionalidad Han (que, según el último censo del 2000, representaba el 91% de la población total) y 55 grupos étnicos minoritarios. China intenta no sólo restar importancia a su diversidad étnica, sino ocultar las brechas culturales y lingüísticas existentes en el seno de la mayoría Han, no sea que las divergencias históricas norte-sur afloren nuevamente. 

Los Han (divididos en siete o más grupos distintos desde el punto de vista lingüístico y cultural) serán cualquier cosa salvo un grupo homogéneo. Las principales lenguas de China aparte de las empleadas en territorios de minorías, incluyen el mandarín, el hakka (hablado en varias áreas del sur), el gan (provincia de Jiangxi), el wu (provincia de Zhejiang), el xiang (provincia de Hunan), el yue (sobre todo en la provincia de Guangdong), el pinghua (vástago yue), el min del sur (hokkien/ del taiwanés) y el min del norte. 

No obstante, los comunistas se han valido del mito de la homogeneidad para atizar el nacionalismo Han. Este mito, concebido en un principio para unificar a los no manchúes en contra de la dinastía manchú Qing, fue ideado por Sun Yat-Sen, un cantonés que encabezó el movimiento republicano que tomó el poder en 1911. La posterior imposición de la lengua del norte, el mandarín, contribuyó a instaurar una lingua franca en una sociedad diversa, pero casi un siglo después no es el mandarín sino las lenguas locales las que se siguen hablando comúnmente. 

Actualmente, gracias a la mayor conciencia de la realidad derivada de los avances en las tecnologías de la información y la comunicación, los hakka, los sichuaneses, los cantoneses, los shanghaineses, los fujianeses, los swatoweses, los hunaneses y otras comunidades clasificadas oficialmente como Han reafirman sus identidades distintivas y su patrimonio cultural. 

Los problemas internos de China no desaparecerán a menos que sus gobernantes dejen de imponer la homogeneidad cultural y renuncien a la asfixia étnica como estrategia del Estado llevada a la práctica en áreas de minorías. Tras el levantamiento tibetano en el 2008, el año 2009 será recordado como el de la revuelta uigur. Si se considera que el año próximo se cumplirá el LX aniversario de la ocupación china de Tíbet, el centro de atención se situará en los desafíos internos de China. Mientras el crecimiento económico aminora su ritmo y el malestar interno aumenta a una cadencia similar a la del PIB chino, tales desafíos se extienden de hecho al corazón de la propia China. 

BRAHMA CHELLANEY, profesor de Estudios Estratégicosdel Centro de Investigación en Ciencia Política de Nueva Delhi. Autor de ´El monstruo asiático: el auge de China, India y Japón´ 

Traducción: JoséMaría Puig de la Bellacasa

China-India Border Talks

A Fruitless Dialogue 

Brahma Chellaney

The New Indian Express, August 17, 2009

The broadening of the Sino-Indian border talks into an all-encompassing
strategic dialogue is an unmistakable reminder that the negotiations stand
deadlocked. Yet neither side wants to abandon the fruitless process.

In the period since the border negotiations began
nearly three decades ago, the world has changed fundamentally. Indeed, with its
rapidly accumulating military and economic power,
China itself has emerged as a great
power in the making. The longer the negotiating process continues without
yielding results, the greater the space
Beijing
will have to mount strategic pressure on
India and leverage its position. After
all,
China
already holds the military advantage on the ground. Its forces control the
heights along the long 4.057-kilometer Himalayan frontier. Furthermore, by
building new railroads, airports and highways in
Tibet,
China is now in a position
to rapidly move additional forces to the border to potentially strike at
India at a time
of its choosing.

Diplomatically, China
is a contented party, having occupied what it wanted — the Aksai Chin plateau,
which is
almost the size of Switzerland
and provides the only accessible Tibet-Xinjiang route through the
Karakoram passes of the Kunlun Mountains.
Yet it
chooses to press claims on additional Indian territories as part of a grand
strategy to gain leverage in bilateral relations and, more importantly, to keep
India
under military and diplomatic pressure.

At the core of its strategy is an apparent resolve to indefinitely hold off
on a border settlement with
India
through an overt refusal to accept the territorial status quo. In not hiding
its intent to further redraw the Himalayan frontiers,
Beijing only helps highlight the futility of
the ongoing process of political negotiations. After all, the territorial
status quo can be changed not through political talks but by further military
conquest. Yet, paradoxically, the political process remains important for
Beijing to provide the façade of engagement behind which
to seek
India’s
containment.

Keeping India
engaged in endless talks is a key Chinese objective so that
Beijing can continue its work on changing the
Himalayan balance decisively in its favor through a greater build-up of
military power and logistical capabilities. That is why
China has sought to shield the negotiating
process from the perceptible hardening of its stance towards
New Delhi.

Let’s be clear: Chinese negotiating tactics have shifted markedly over
the decades. Beijing originally floated the swap idea — giving up its claims in
India’s northeast in return for Indian acceptance of the Chinese control over a
part of Ladakh — to legalize its occupation of Aksai Chin. It then sang the
mantra of putting the territorial disputes on the backburner so that the two
countries could concentrate on building close, mutually beneficial relations. But
in more recent years, in keeping with its rising strength,
China has escalated border tensions
and military incursions while assertively laying claim to Arunachal Pradesh.
According to a recent report in
Ming Pao, a Hong Kong paper with close ties to the
establishment in
Beijing, China is seeking “just” 28 percent
of Arunachal. That means an area nearly the size of
Taiwan.

In that light, can the border talks be kept going
indefinitely? Consider two important facts.

First, the present border negotiations have been going on continuously
since 1981, making them already the longest and the most-barren process between
any two countries in modern history.
It seems
the only progress in this process is that
India’s
choice of words in public is now the same as
China’s. “B
oth countries
have agreed to seek a fair, reasonable and mutually acceptable settlement of
this issue,” Indian External Affairs Minister S.M. Krishna told Parliament on
July 31. “The matter, of course, is complex and requires time and lots of
patience.” It was as if the Chinese foreign minister was speaking. Isn’t it odd
for
India
to plead for more time and patience after nearly three decades of negotiations?

Second, the authoritative People’s Daily — the
Communist Party mouthpiece that reflects official thinking — made it clear in a
June 11, 2009 editorial: “
China
won’t make any compromises in its border disputes with
India.” That reflects the Chinese
position in the negotiations. But when
Beijing
is advertising its uncompromising stance, doesn’t
New Delhi get the message?

So the key question is: What does India
gain by staying put in an interminably barren negotiating process with
China? By
persisting with this process, isn’t
India
aiding the Chinese engagement-with-containment strategy by providing
Beijing the cover it
needs? While
Beijing’s strategy and tactics are
apparent,
India
has had difficulty to define a game-plan and resolutely pursue clearly laid-out
objectives. Still, staying put in a barren process cannot be an end in itself
for
India.

India indeed has retreated to an
increasingly defensive position territorially, with the spotlight now on
China’s Tibet-linked claim to Arunachal Pradesh than
on
Tibet’s
status itself.
Now you know why Beijing invested so much
political capital over the years in getting
India
to gradually accept
Tibet
as part of the territory of the People’s Republic. Its success on that score
has helped narrow the dispute to what it claims. That neatly meshes with
China’s
long-standing negotiating stance: What it occupies is Chinese territory, and
what it claims must be on the table to be settled on the basis of give-and-take
— or as it puts it in reasonably sounding terms, on the basis of “mutual
accommodation and mutual understanding.”

As a result, India
has been left in the unenviable position of having to fend off Chinese territorial
demands. In fact, history is in danger of repeating itself as
India gets sucked into a
1950s-style trap.
The issue then was Aksai Chin; the issue now
is Arunachal. But rather than put the focus on the source of China’s claim —
Tibet — and Beijing’s attempt to territorially enlarge its Tibet annexation to
what it calls “southern Tibet,” India is willing to be taken ad infinitum
around the mulberry bush.

Take the period since the border talks were “elevated” to
the level of special representatives in 2003.
India
first got into an extended exercise with
Beijing
to define general principles to govern a border settlement, despite
China’s
egregious record of flouting the Panchsheel principles and committing naked
aggression in 1962. But no sooner had the border-related principles been
unveiled in 2005 with fanfare than
Beijing
jettisoned the do-not-disturb-the-settled-populations principle to buttress its
claim to Arunachal.

Yet, as the most-recent round of talks highlighted this
month,
India has agreed to
let the negotiations go off at a tangent by broadening them into a diffused strategic
dialogue — to the delight of
Beijing.
This not only opens yet another chapter in an increasingly directionless
process, but also lets
China
condition a border settlement to the achievement of greater Sino-Indian strategic
congruence. Worse still,
New Delhi is to observe
2010 — the 60th anniversary of
China
becoming
India’s neighbor by
gobbling up
Tibet — as the
“Year of Friendship with
China
in
India.

About the author: Brahma Chellaney is
professor of strategic studies at the Centre for Policy Research in
New Delhi.

http://bit.ly/1n3vYW

China’s Hydra-Headed Hydropolitics

The
Sino-Indian Divide Over Water

Brahma
Chellaney

A globally syndicated column. CopyrightProject Syndicate

As China and India gain economic heft, they are drawing
ever more international attention at the time of an ongoing global shift of
power to 
Asia. Their underlying strategic
dissonance and rivalry, however, usually attracts less notice.

As its power grows, China seems
determined to choke off Asian competitors, a tendency reflected in its
hardening stance toward 
India.
This includes aggressive patrolling of the disputed Himalayan frontier by the
People’s Liberation Army, many violations of the line of control separating the
two giants, new assertiveness concerning India’s northeastern Arunachal Pradesh
state — which China claims as its own — and vituperative attacks on India in
the state-controlled Chinese media.

The issues that divide India and China, however,
extend beyond territorial disputes. Water is becoming a key security issue in
Sino-Indian relations and a potential source of enduring discord.

China and India already are
water-stressed economies. The spread of irrigated farming and water-intensive
industries, together with the demands of a rising middle class, have led to a
severe struggle for more water. Indeed, both countries have entered an era of
perennial water scarcity, which before long is likely to equal, in terms of per
capita availability, the water shortages found in the 
Middle
East
.

Rapid economic growth could slow in the face of acute
scarcity if demand for water continues to grow at its current frantic pace,
turning China and India — both food-exporting countries — into major importers,
a development that would accentuate the global food crisis.

Even though India has
more arable land than 
China —
160.5 million hectares compared to 137.1 million hectares — 
Tibet is
the source of most major Indian rivers. The Tibetan plateau’s vast glaciers,
huge underground springs and high altitude make 
Tibet the world’s largest
freshwater repository after the polar icecaps. Indeed, all of Asia’s major
rivers, except the 
Ganges, originate in
the Tibetan plateau. Even the Ganges’ two main tributaries flow in from 
Tibet.

But China is
now pursuing major inter-basin and inter-river water transfer projects on the
Tibetan plateau, which threatens to diminish international-river flows into
India and
other co-riparian states. Before such hydro-engineering projects sow the seeds
of water conflict, 
China ought
to build institutionalized, cooperative river-basin arrangements with
downstream states.

Upstream dams, barrages, canals, and irrigation systems
can help fashion water into a political weapon that can be wielded overtly in a
war, or subtly in peacetime to signal dissatisfaction with a co-riparian state.
Even denial of hydrological data in a critically important season can amount to
the use of water as a political tool. Flash floods in recent years in two
Indian frontier states — Himachal Pradesh and Arunachal Pradesh — served as an
ugly reminder of 
China’s
lack of information-sharing on its upstream projects. Such leverage could in
turn prompt a downstream state to build up its military capacity to help
counterbalance this disadvantage.

In fact, China has
been damming most international rivers flowing out of 
Tibet, whose
fragile ecosystem is already threatened by global warming. The only rivers on
which no hydro-engineering works have been undertaken so far are the Indus,
whose basin falls mostly in 
India and Pakistan, and the Salween, which flows into Burma and Thailand. Local authorities
in 
Yunnan province, however, are
considering damming the 
Salween in
the quake-prone upstream region.

India’s government has been pressing China for
transparency, greater hydrological data-sharing, and a commitment not to
redirect the natural flow of any river or diminish cross-border water flows.
But even a joint expert-level mechanism — set up in 2007 merely for "interaction
and cooperation" on hydrological data — has proven of little value.

The most-dangerous idea China is
contemplating is the northward rerouting of the Brahmaputra river, known as
Yarlung Tsangpo to Tibetans, but which 
China has renamed Yaluzangbu.
It is the world’s highest river, and also one of the fastest-flowing. Diversion
of the Brahmaputra’s water to the parched Yellow river is an idea that 
China does not discuss in public, because
the project implies environmental devastation of 
India‘s northeastern plains and eastern Bangladesh, and would thus be akin to a
declaration of water war on 
India and Bangladesh.

Nevertheless, an officially blessed book published in
2005, 
Tibet’s Waters
Will Save China, openly championed the northward rerouting of the 
Brahmaputra. Moreover, the Chinese desire to divert the
Brahmaputra by employing "peaceful nuclear explosions" to build an
underground tunnel through the Himalayas found expression in the international
negotiations in 
Geneva in
the mid-1990s on the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty (CTBT). 
China sought
unsuccessfully to exempt PNEs from the CTBT, a pact still not in force.

The issue now is not whether China will reroute the Brahmaputra, but when. Once authorities complete their
feasibility studies and the diversion scheme begins, the project will be
presented as a 
fait accompli
China already
has identified the bend where the Brahmaputra forms the world’s longest and
deepest canyon — just before entering 
India — as the diversion
point.

China’s ambitions to channel Tibetan waters northward
have been whetted by two factors: the completion of the Three Gorges Dam,
which, despite the project’s glaring environmental pitfalls, China trumpets as
the greatest engineering feat since the construction of the Great Wall; and the
power of President Hu Jintao, whose background fuses two key elements — water
and Tibet. Hu, a hydrologist by training, owes his swift rise in the Communist
Party hierarchy to the brutal martial-law crackdown he carried out in 
Tibet in
1989.

China’s hydro-engineering projects and plans are a reminder
that 
Tibet is
at the heart of the India-China divide. 
Tibet ceased
to be a political buffer when 
China annexed it nearly six decades
ago. But 
Tibet can
still become a political bridge between 
China and India. For that
to happen, water has to become a source of cooperation, not conflict.

Brahma
Chellaney is Professor of Strategic Studies at the Center for Policy Research
in 
New Delhi.

Copyright: Project
Syndicate, 2009.

http://www.project-syndicate.org/contributor/1629