Commentary / Janardan Thakur
Farooq's return is only the beginning of real tests, both for
Delhi and for him
It is not hard to understand Farooq Abdullah breaking into tears
at his swearing-in ceremony. He had never thought he would live
to see this day. Farooq had almost given up the fight. He had
kept out of the general election, saying that New Delhi's offer
(on autonomy in the state) was 'not good enough'.
People close
to him had known better. They said Farooq was in 'mortal fear'
of meeting the fate of Mirwaiz Farooq. He doubted if the militants
from across the border would let the election be held, and in
any case he was not willing to risk his life 'for nothing'. He
kept saying he was only asking for 'something to sell
to the people,' but so far down had the valley slipped that
he doubted if even the best of packages would work.
Everybody was saying that India had lost forever the battle for the minds and hearts of Kashmiris.
So Farooq made a 'virtue out of necessity' and laid the blame
on the Centre.
For years Farooq has wallowed in his predicament. About a decade
and a half ago, when the dying Sheikh Abdullah anointed Farooq
as his successor it was unthinkable that a day would come when
he would have to run away from the valley out of fear for his
life or that the National Conference would be effectively outflanked.
In the mid-eighties, Farooq's popularity was almost as high as
that of his father, but he lost it fast. For many Kashmiris he
came close to being 'public enemy number one'.
At one point, he
told this writer in utter despair, "In Delhi they think I
am an agent of Pakistan, in Islamabad they think I am an Indian
agent." He did not care what Pakistan thought, but he certainly
wanted Delhi's trust. He wanted to be a bridge between Delhi and
Kashmir, but he knew he could not regain the trust of the Kashmiris
if they saw him as a lackey of the Delhi Durbar.
In retrospect, Dr Abdullah knows the biggest political blunder of his career:
his hand-clasp with Rajiv Gandhi, which had given him back his
gaddi. For the people in the valley that was a 'great betrayal.'
Dr Abdullah was again under pressure from sections of the Congress
and the new rulers in Delhi to fight the elections together, but
that is one thing he would perhaps never accept again.
For long
he had been trying to tread that middle-ground somewhere between
pro-Pakistan Kashmiri extremism and New Delhi's dogged will to
wipe out the movement for 'liberation.'. But often enough,
that ground was just not there. That, among other things, explained
why he had taken refuge, with wife and children, in England.
It all began with the rather arbitrary dismissal of his government
in July 1984 -- a political coup engineered by Arun Nehru (then
chief factotum of the Indira-Rajiv durbar) in Delhi and effected
by then governor Jagmohan in Srinagar. But his ouster made Farooq only
more popular in Kashmir and he appeared set for a sweeping comeback.
He would certainly have done so but for his eagerness to regain
power that threw him into the arms of the Congress.
Suspicious
as the Kashmiri psyche is of New Delhi, Farooq lost esteem almost
immediately : he was no longer the Kashmiri hero holding forth
against New Delhi. Instead he was seen as a stooge, a meek collaborator
with the powers that be. Although he became the chief minister,
popular sentiment in the valley turned against him.
The hour of
pro-Pakistan elements had arrived. This is just what they were
waiting for: A discredited Farooq Abdullah.
It was during Farooq's
second stint as chief minister that the azaadi
movement assumed menacing proportions in the valley and the armed
militancy flourished.
Which is not to say that he ever faded from the picture. On the
contrary, he remained at the very core of it. Farooq Abdullah
remained firm in his opposition to any Pakistani role in the valley
and in his emphatic support to the accession of Kashmir to India.
While underlining that a solution to the Kashmir problem must
be found within the ambit of the Constitution, he insisted
that he would negotiate only on his terms.
He was afraid of going
back to the valley bearing the cross of being 'New Delhi's agent.'
That was a lesson perhaps too hard to forget after what happened
following his alliance with Rajiv Gandhi and the Congress.
Farooq Abdullah kept harping on the minimum autonomy package required
to rekindle the political process in the valley: an agreement
based on the lines of the pre-1952 arrangement between Jawaharlal
Nehru and Sheikh Abdullah. This essentially meant giving Kashmir
effective control of all subjects except defence, foreign affairs,
currency and communications. The state, under such an agreement,
would have a separate constitution, a separate flag and the chief
minister would be known as prime minister.
After much dilly-dallying
Narasimha Rao announced an autonomy package but it fell far
short of what Farooq Abdullah had been expecting. Doubtful if
the election could be held, Farooq decided to drop out, which
he thought would give him some credibility with the people in
the valley.
To many, Farooq's demands were outrageous, for they meant the
'creation of special nation within a nation'. His
reply to them was: An autonomous Kashmir within India is better
than a hostile Kashmir swaying under the influence of Pakistan.
Could he assure that Kashmir would go so far on the autonomy question
and no farther? There lay the catch : Farooq Abdullah refused
to take any initiatives without the 'minimum autonomy'
package and without Farooq Abdullah in the fray, it was uncertain
that New Delhi could ever bring the valley around.
Given New Delhi's record on Kashmir all this was not too strange.
Recent chapters in the history of Kashmir are the same half-way
house story : Farooq Abdullah one day, Jagmohan another; trust
one day, hatred and mistrust another; carrot one day, stick another.
Farooq Abdullah's rejection of the political package -- and the
election -- had shown that New Delhi was still caught in a half-way
house of its making, that it did not quite know its mind on Kashmir.
Farooq Abdullah had gone around pleading that Delhi must strengthen
his hands, but Delhi kept shaking its confused head, saying one
thing today and quite another tomorrow.
If a new beginning is really to be made, Delhi would have to honor
and respect the special identity of the people in the valley,
their kashruiriat. Will Delhi repose greater trust
in Dr Abdullah than it has done in the past? Will Delhi show
a better understanding of his dilemma this time round? Will Farooq
himself show greater maturity than he did in the past?
Farooq's return is only the beginning of real tests, both for
Delhi and for him.
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