The sorrows of Swat

AS early as the sixth century B.C., the Chinese traveler Huang-Tsang praised the "forests, flowers, and the fruits" of the rugged mountains and the beautiful valley of Swat. So did Alexander the Great who arrived there a couple of hundred years later. Thus, visitors from the East and the West were agreed on that land's idyllic ambience in the ancient ages.
Even in modern days Swat has been called the "Switzerland of Pakistan" for the same scenic splendour. Alas, the comparison with Switzerland ends there, for unlike that "playground of Europe" Swat today is a stage where a Grecian tragedy of Olympian proportions is being enacted.
Here, too, even with regard to Greek drama, the comparison must conclude. To the Greeks, a tragedy on stage resulted in catharsis, or an emotional healing and cleansing of the audience and the actors through their experience of the sufferings of the characters in the drama.
The sorrows of Swat and the recent mayhem in the larger Malakand Division, of which the former princely state is now a part, do not seem to be having any healing effects on the perpetrators of the pain, both the Taliban and the Pakistani troops, and as the size of the hapless refugee population burgeons, both Islamabad and the international community appear to have been rendered unmoved spectators. But this cannot last long, for out of this tumult may emerge a deluge that could sweep away a state structure that has failed to deliver.
In the intervening period between the ancient and modern times Swat was the cradle of Buddhist culture. The Muslim period began with the invasion by Mahmud Ghazni in the eleventh century. The Islamic State of Swat was established in 1849, with Sharia law in force, which had ramifications for later.
Winston Churchill penned his first novel romanticising fighting in the region. The British recognised Swat as a princely state in 1926, and in 1947 it acceded to Pakistan though, even thereafter, the ruler, the Wali, enjoyed considerable autonomy and popularity. In 1969, the martial law government in Pakistan absorbed it fully. While there was no overt resistance, a simmering resentment was palpable among the tribes.
Another fact of contemporary relevance is that, sporadically, nineteenth century Swat had also been ruled by religious leaders who took the title of "Akhund." The English Victorian poet Edward Lear wrote a comical ditty, "The Akhund of Swat," seeming to indicate a faraway near-mythical place and person -- much like Coleridge's "Kubla Khan of Xanadu."
He wrote: "Who, or why, or what is the Akhund of Swat? Is he tall or short or dark or fair, does he sit on a stool, or sofa or chair, or squat? The Akhund of Swat?" In many ways the Akhund may be seen as the forerunner of the present day Sufi Mohammad or his son-in-law the Taliban connected nemesis of Islamabad and the West, Mowlana Fazalullah.
Against this historic backdrop, it is not surprising that, even prior to the absorption into the North West Frontier Province of Pakistan, a system based on nizam-e-adl, a version of Sharia far milder than that of the Taliban, prevailed in Swat. With the extremist momentum gaining ground in Pakistan, for two years Mowlana Fazalullah's men fiercely fought the Pakistani army, which, exhausted, signed a peace accord on February 16.
The accord, brokered by Mufti Mohammad, established cease-fire and imposed Sharia throughout the Malakand, where the Taliban had wreaked mayhem. To carry out checks on implementation on the ground the Taliban descended as far south as Buner in the Malakand, only 65 miles from Islamabad.
Both Islamabad and Washington panicked. President Obama and Secretary of State Clinton severely crticised the accord and called it an "existential threat" to Pakistan. Under pressure, the Pakistani government, blaming Fazallullah for the Buner incidents, cancelled the agreement.
Fighting resumed and the refugees swelled in numbers. Another kind of pressure was mounted on Pakistan to bring relief and succour to the displaced persons. Notably, the newly adopted UN principle of "Responsibility to protect" enjoins the task first on the Pakistan government and, that failing, on the international community.
So what is to be done? First and foremost, Pakistani authorities must address the problems of the refugees. If they fail, pro-Taliban relief agencies would most likely step in to fill the void. Secondly, a commission of eminent persons could be set up to examine how "good governance" could be brought to Swat.
The sense of marginalisation felt by Swati tribes must end. Finally, civilian collateral damage through military action must be avoided at all costs. It is not only exacerbating the refugee problem but is also fuelling deep resentment that augurs ill for Pakistan.
Questions have been raised in the media about whether Pakistan is a country or merely a space, and whether the best answer to what is Pakistan is that it is "not India." It is up to the Pakistani people to provide the appropriate answers, not just up to Asif Zardari or Nawaz Sharif, or the army or the intelligentsia, but on the entire nation acting in concert, responsibly addressing the threats of Talibanisation, of underdevelopment, and of national disunity.
Perhaps the expectations of Pakistanis remain less fulfilled than some other nations, and for fulfilling these, the government in Islamabad must take charge. As for its people, they may believe in the words of the popular refrain: "Sohni Dharti Allah Rakhye!" (May God protect the golden soil!). But in reality, man must also help.

Iftekhar Ahmed Chowdhury is a former Adviser to the caretaker government.