Two Faces Of Globalisation

NEW DELHI

Even for India, which typically loses many more lives to terrorism in a yearthan most countries do in a decade, the November 26-28 attacks on Mumbai markeda watershed. For the first time, foreigners – Americans, Japanese, Israelisand Germans, among others – were among the nearly 200 dead and 295 wounded.The scale of the attacks, carried out in 10 places by 10 heavily armed jihadists,made the 2001 terrorist assault on India’s parliament appear almost trivial bycomparison. In its audacity and ruthlessness, as well as in the wall-to-wallinternational coverage it attracted, the assault on Mumbai brought to mind 9/11in New York and Washington, the bloody Chechen takeover of a school in Beslan in2004 and the 2005 London suicide bombings.

In many ways, the victims of the carnage in Mumbai represent the integrationof markets, peoples and ideas captured by that catchall word – globalisation.Both the hotels attacked, the Taj and the Oberoi, are mainstays of high-endbusiness travel. If a global icon – say Bono or Bill Gates or Bill Clinton –has spent a night in India’s financial capital, odds are that he stayed in oneor the other. The nearby Nariman House, home to the local branch of theChabad-Lubavitch orthodox Jewish movement, served as an informal way station foryoung Israelis, familiar figures on the tourist trails of Asia. Leopold Cafe,where jihadists lobbed a hand grenade and sprayed diners with automatic weaponfire, has long been a backpacker favorite. All in all, the odds of the victimshaving multiple entry stamps in their passports, friends from more than onecountry on Facebook and a credit card welcome across borders in their walletswere incomparably higher than in any previous terrorist attack in India.

If the city of Mumbai symbolizes the hopeful face of globalisation in SouthAsia – standing for pluralism, enterprise and openness to ideas and investment– then the Pakistan-trained jihadists responsible for the carnage representits darker twin. Carved out of British India in 1947 as a homeland for SouthAsian Muslims, Pakistan has long been a magnet for pan-Islamic radicals fromaround the world, among them Abdullah Azzam (1941-89), the ideological father ofthe anti-Soviet Afghan jihad, Al Qaeda’s Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri,and their comrade in arms Mullah Omar of the Taliban. A plethora of localgroups, among them Lashkar-e-Taiba, suspected to be behind the Mumbai attacks,one of whose alleged operatives, Ajmal Amir Kasab [the name has been speltdifferently in different reports so far -- Ed], was captured by Indianauthorities, and Jaish-e-Mohammed, though organizationally distinct from AlQaeda, share the same toxic ideology. The L-e-T was among the jihadist groupsthat banded together in 1998 under the umbrella of bin Laden’s Islamic Frontfor Jihad against Jews and Crusaders.

Along with Saudi Arabia, Pakistan is the world’s pre-eminent exporter ofradical Sunni fervor. The country’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), part ofthe army, in a sense pioneered the yoking together of modern-weapons trainingwith pan-Islamic religious brainwashing, albeit initially with help from theCentral Intelligence Agency. Many Pakistanis are moderate; nonetheless sympathyfor radical Islam runs deep. A 2007 poll showed bin Laden with an approvalrating of 46 percent, higher than that of many of Pakistani politicians. Theradical Islamic outlook – obsessed with the glories of Islamic civilization,hostile toward non-Muslims and non-conformist women, and convinced that Jews andAmericans are perpetually plotting against their faith – is shared by many whomay formally disapprove of Al Qaeda’s tactics.

Until the most recent incidents in Mumbai, the consensus view in both NewDelhi and Washington was that India – with its robust democracy, large middleclass and world-beating companies – could sprint toward development despiteits dysfunctional neighbor. But the capacity of a handful of terrorists toparalyze life in Mumbai and inflict several billion dollars worth of damageraise profound questions about the basic premise underlying India’s reach forgreat power status. It should give pause to even the hardiest optimist. Putsimply, the world can no longer be certain that a failing Pakistan won’t takeIndia down with it or, at the very least, hobble its efforts to catch up withEast Asia.

For India, then, the challenge is not merely to do a better job of combatingterrorism within its borders, or to attempt to assuage public anger through atoken diplomatic tit-for-tat. New Delhi must also find a way to work with theinternational community to change the very nature of the Pakistani state. A goodneighborly Pakistan will be one that does more than make appropriate noisesafter every fresh terrorist outrage. It will be a country that holds itselfresponsible for acts of violence originating on its soil, renounces grandioseextra-territorial ambitions in Indian Kashmir and Afghanistan, and focuses itsenergies on improving the abysmal levels of health care and education that rankit 136th of 177 countries in the United Nations Human Development Index.

A minimal first step will be to show good faith in what Islamabad now calls ashared fight against terrorism by handing over to Indian authorities Pakistanresidents with civilian blood on their hands. Heading the list: the L-e-T leaderHafiz Mohammed Saeed and the Indian mafia don Dawood Ibrahim, a Karachi residentwho orchestrated the 1993 Mumbai bombings that killed more than 250 people.Ibrahim is also suspected of using his underworld network to aid the most recentattacks. Terrorist camps on Pakistan territory, including those in thePakistan-administered portion of Kashmir, must be closed in a way that isverifiable by the international community. Madrassas that have long stokedradicalism in the region – including Jamia Binoria in Karachi and Darul UloomHaqqania outside Peshawar – must be given a credible ultimatum to eitherreform or be shuttered.

None of this is possible without dollops of international aid. But aid alone,however well-intentioned, cannot alleviate the problem unless properly directed.More pressing than the need for health clinics and new schools, or even supportfor Pakistan’s shaky democratic institutions, is military and educationalreform. Over the medium to long term, Pakistan must cease to be what theSingaporean scholar Tan Tai Yong has called a "garrison state." Though thecountry spends a relatively modest 3.2 percent of gross domestic product ondefense, according to Ayesha Siddiqua, an expert on the Pakistan military, itsbudget, official and unofficial, accounts for as much as 30 percent ofgovernment spending. Its army is beyond the control of its putative civilianmasters, and reforming or re-orienting the ISI will be impossible as long asPakistan’s generals continue to wield the kind of clout and wealth that wouldmake a 1970s Latin American strongman blush.

Education reform will have to go much deeper than providing sorely neededinfrastructure and boosting enrollment, especially among girls – only aboutone in three Pakistani women can read and write. The world needs to understandhow Pakistanis view history, and find a way to strike a balance between ajustified pride in Islam and a celebration of militarism and conquest. Madrassastudents ought to be exposed to art, music and literature to see a world beyondthe black and white of Koranic injunctions.

Needless to say, none of these measures are easy to implement. But as thecarnage in Mumbai shows, and as jihadists the world over appear to instinctivelygrasp, our rapidly shrinking planet is not large enough for global capitalismand global radical Islam to exist side by side indefinitely.

Sadanand Dhume, a fellow at the Asia Society in Washington, DC, and theauthor of My Friend the Fanatic, a travelogue about radical Islam. Hisnext book will examine the impact of globalisation on India. Rights: © 2008Yale Center for the Study of Globalization. YaleGlobalOnline