aryan2007
BANNED
- Joined
- Nov 14, 2007
- Messages
- 428
- Reaction score
- 0
so u want us to give up our nukes but u keep yours. this is a non starter. no need to discuss further.
please replace want with wish...
Follow along with the video below to see how to install our site as a web app on your home screen.
Note: This feature may not be available in some browsers.
so u want us to give up our nukes but u keep yours. this is a non starter. no need to discuss further.
please replace want with wish...
I think Mastan Khan has been able to identify India's worry over the Pak nukes.
Pak having nukes is not the concern. It will continue to have the same, whether anyone likes it or not.
What is the worry is that it should not fall into the hands of any irresponsible hotheaded and overzealous politician or terrorists.
Should it fall into such hands, then not only India, but the world will be up the gum tree!
a non-interferring country like India cannot stop US for not doing anything:
non-interfearing country??? thats a good one!!! the hits just keep on coming!!!
only if you believe RAW is up there with teh best
yup sir never under-estimate your enemy as they said .
and one fact we all need to live with is India will and remain concerned about anything about Pakistan its natural. Their Pakistan-Phobia not gonna vanish thats for sure.
so have a cup of coffee and relex.
This may sound a bit pompous..
but India as a country does not treat Pakistan as an economic or military rival, it is China that we are more concerned about and IMO wish to emulate....
You guys in not so Kind words are our "ungali karnay wale" neighbours. in effect our #1 headache... + involving religion in a political fights with a country with mo' muslims is frankly disconcerting.
Agnostic_Muslims article Nuclear Control in Pakistan is very informative and portrays some of our concerns, and past lapses and growing extremism amongst even Pakistani nuke scientists..
well the situation is pakistan is certainly not normal but i believe the recent actions will lead towards a more stable situation after the jan-08 elections. lets summarise:
1. musharraf retires from army/hands over command to kiyani - everyone from washington to london to delhi is happy about this.
3. musharraf is a civilian president - everyone from washington to london to delhi is happy about this. even BB and NS are happy about this even if they dont show it publically,
4. elections will be free and fair because the US/EU/UN is sending observers - everyone from washington to london to delhi is happy about this.
We have stopped running our farmaishi program...please replace want with wish...
Musharraf's Emergency Rule Abounding in Contradictions
Crackdown Has Veered Between Cruelty, Leniency
By Pamela Constable
Washington Post Foreign Service
Monday, December 3, 2007; Page A13
ISLAMABAD, Pakistan -- The riot police fastened their helmets and raised their thick plastic shields, under orders to stop an exultant mob that was massing against a fence outside the Lahore airport last week. But as clusters of people began breaking through the fence, frantic to greet an arriving political leader, the police suddenly fell back and let them through.
"This is Pakistan," one policeman said with a shrug to a journalist watching the chaotic scene. "There is always a double policy."
The officer's comment neatly summed up the ad hoc, constantly shifting and often contradictory nature of emergency rule that President Pervez Musharraf imposed on Pakistan on Nov. 3 and has announced he intends to lift Dec. 16.
It has been both vengefully cruel and unexpectedly lenient, codified in abstruse legal language but defiantly unconstitutional, at times calibrated for political effect and at times clumsily applied on apparent whim.
It has not officially been called martial law, perhaps to avoid the stigma of a term that is both vividly familiar and technically precise to Pakistanis, and that would have evoked other chilling associations for Musharraf's allies in the West. Between 1958 and 1986, Pakistan endured three periods of martial law under military rulers.
Musharraf's version has paled beside the last such episode, under Gen. Mohammed Zia ul-Haq, when civilians were flogged in public for drinking alcohol, politicians were tortured in squalid prisons, secret military trials were held and the death penalty was decreed for such crimes as "arousing insecurity or despondency among the public."
This time, there have been no tanks or army troops on the streets of the capital or other cities, only uniformed police and plainclothes agents deployed to strategic spots, such as homes of senior opposition leaders and sites of repeated public protests.
Demonstrators were clubbed but not shot. Violent confrontation was preempted whenever possible, with police cordoning off potential trouble spots. The major complaint was of traffic jams.
For most Pakistanis, in fact, life has continued normally. Motorized rickshaws and decorated wooden cargo trucks still clog the roads; alleys teem with fruit and fish, sneaker and soap displays. Mosques still fill on Fridays, luxury hotels hold society weddings and bureaucrats sip their last cup of tea in time to leave the office by 4 p.m. sharp.
Some of the most salient aspects of emergency rule have been marked by absence -- the blank screens on TV channels that once hosted lively debate shows, the empty courtrooms where protesting lawyers have boycotted proceedings for the past month.
Everyone has felt the tension, the jolt of adrenaline when police motion cars to stop for spot checks, the fear that things could suddenly get much worse. At the same time, even the humblest Pakistanis express contempt for this emergency, which many see as a dictator's transparent maneuver to keep himself in power.
"Musharraf did it just to save himself," said Iftikhar Ahmed, 34, a poultry salesman in Rawalpindi. "He closed down the only TV channel that was telling the truth, just so we wouldn't know what was going on in our own country."
"There was no need for any emergency. Emergencies are for extraordinary circumstances. This was just to secure his seat," said Asma Chohan, 30, a math teacher in Islamabad.
Sometimes, the crackdown seemed like a high-stakes game between Musharraf and his domestic adversaries, with the rules changing constantly. Opposition leader Benazir Bhutto, ostensibly confined at home behind multiple rings of police barricades managed to address reporters with a bullhorn and attend a diplomatic reception.
There were class distinctions, too. Senior politicians, arriving at Bhutto's Islamabad residence in SUVs, were allowed inside to gossip and strategize. But low-level supporters, who dared approach the house and chant a few slogans, were grabbed by intelligence agents, shoved into police vans and trailed down the street by TV crews.
A similar official ambivalence surrounded the return of former prime minister Nawaz Sharif from exile last week. At first the government, hoping to minimize his public welcome, sealed the airport and issued a one-day decree banning all public gatherings. Then it suddenly relented, letting Sharif's fans fill the airport and his motorcade crawl through the city until dawn, mobbed by delirious supporters.
Other prominent Pakistanis were made targets of gratuitous humiliation, especially the judges and lawyers whom Musharraf made clear he viewed as ringleaders of a "conspiracy" to derail his vision of a controlled, Pinochet-style transition to democracy.
Munir Malik, a lead attorney in several Supreme Court challenges to Musharraf's rule, was arrested on the first day of emergency rule and kept for weeks in a tiny cell, where he was denied medicine for chronic kidney and liver problems until he had to be rushed to a hospital intensive care ward. His family and associates charged that he had been poisoned.
The punishment for Aitzaz Ahsan, 62, another senior lawyer, former senator and one of Pakistan's most admired opposition figures, was more subtle. Ahsan was held incommunicado in prison until last week, when he was moved to house arrest and barred from seeing visitors or speaking to reporters.
He could also no longer appear in court, and last week the neatly tied bundles of cases and briefs sat unopened on his desk in Lahore. His clerk had dutifully typed out the agenda of weekly events he could no longer attend, from Supreme Court hearings to family weddings to a reception honoring the birthday of Japan's emperor.
"I think what is especially hard for him is not to be able to practice his profession," his wife, Bushra, said in an interview. "We calculated he has been in prison 15 times before, but this time something has changed. He's not himself. He's a man of the law in a country where the law has been destroyed."
The government's treatment of the mass media under emergency has also been erratic. Newspaper columns and editorials continued to blast the government untouched, but TV talk shows featuring influential celebrity hosts were banned.
Then, one by one, the independent channels negotiated deals that put them back on the air.
In some ways, Musharraf's half-strength emergency has reflected his ambivalent governing style since taking power in 1999. He has often made inspiring speeches vowing bold reforms that never materialized, and he fathered a disastrous truce with Islamic insurgents while his crack troops were being routed by tribal Taliban fighters in sandals.
A stolid career soldier who strayed into politics and succumbed to the whispers of ambitious advisers, Musharraf was often criticized for failing to wield his power to do good. In the end, many Pakistanis say, he wielded that power to prolong his stay on the throne and ended up with a cowed but cynical nation snickering behind his back.
Musharraf's Emergency Rule Abounding in Contradictions - washingtonpost.com
Skepticism tinges support for Bhutto
The Pakistani opposition leader is still popular, but some wonder what she has to offer after two disastrous stints as prime minister.
By Bruce Wallace, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
December 3, 2007
KARACHI, Pakistan — Benazir Bhutto's image is visible throughout Lyari, one of Karachi's oldest and most desperate neighborhoods. It is stamped on political posters that can't paper over cracks in the buckling buildings and billows out on bedsheets that hang from rooftops and flutter with every breeze that lifts the dust and stirs the garbage.
Despite a decade in exile, Bhutto is still a presence in this multi-ethnic inner-city ghetto of 1.6 million people that has been solidly behind her Pakistan People's Party since the 1970s, when it was led by her father. Yet even in Lyari, along the rutted alleys that double as outdoor schools and past the dozens of "Chinese Dentist" stores, there is only tempered enthusiasm for the woman campaigning to recapture the prime minister's job she held twice in the late 1980s and early 1990s.
Neither democracy nor martial law has made much difference to the lives in Lyari. Sewage runs through the alleys as it always has, and jobs are hard to find. Outsiders continue to come to the neighborhood to buy their hashish, the drug commerce fueling gang wars that police show little inclination to stop.
Bhutto's brand of secular politics has always leaned heavily on the rhetoric of social and economic justice, designed to appeal to the Pakistani underclass. But as she launched her election campaign over the weekend in the northern city of Peshawar, her previous stints in office were being widely remembered as disappointing, the promises of a fairer society scuttled amid charges of personal corruption and the expedient decision to cater to Muslim extremists.
"Nothing changed for us when she was in power," says Lal Baksh Rind, a longtime community activist in Lyari and a political rival of Bhutto's PPP. Rind acknowledges that Lyari is still Bhutto's turf. But he says few people believe reelecting her will end their despair.
"Some people think that if she comes back she will give them jobs -- that's why they will vote for her," he says, sitting cross-legged on his bed in a tiny, damp house beneath a portrait of Karl Marx and a painting of Iranian soldiers burning U.S. flag.
"But fix Lyari? The infrastructure is so bad -- no sewers, no services. No politician can fix it."
Bhutto, however, is not shying away from raising expectations. Her platform for elections scheduled to be held Jan. 8 is a cascade of promises designed to appeal to the millions of poor left out of much-trumpeted economic growth under eight years of rule by President Pervez Musharraf.
Bhutto has pledged to give at least one year of employment to each of Pakistan's poorest families, and to offer micro-financing for 5 million people to start small businesses. She also vowed that, by 2015, all children ages 5 to 10 would be enrolled in school.
The theme of social and economic justice was a hallmark of the PPP under its founder, the revered Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, Benazir's father, who was hanged almost three decades ago after a military coup by Gen. Zia ul-Haq. Benazir's supporters acknowledge that part of her appeal derives from her father's legacy, and his face is a ghostly presence on many of the posters and billboards touting his daughter's return to politics.
That's especially true in Lyari, which Zulfikar Ali Bhutto saw as a place to build a political base during his rise to power. It was during Bhutto's time as prime minister that Lyari was given its first underground sewage system and schools were built, and the era is remembered as a time when politicians paid attention.
The Bhutto name still resonates here.
"Democratic institutions are not very powerful and people think there is no reason to vote," says Mohammed Asghar Baloch, a member of Lyari's vibrant community of east African descendants.
"But there are some who think that whenever a Bhutto comes to power the lower classes will get jobs. That's what they are hoping for now," said Baloch, who runs a government school in Lyari.
Although much of the chattering class debate in Pakistan focuses on constitutional issues, economic themes formed the backbone of Bhutto's campaign launch in Peshawar, a stronghold of religious parties. Even her pitch for resolving the confrontation between the government and Islamic extremists is rooted in economics.
"The Pakistan People's Party will give them security, peace and employment," she said, referring to the region's conservative, ethnic Pashtun population. She added that she would "bring development to their areas so their problems will be solved."
Bhutto is unlikely to make major electoral inroads in the north. But she is counting on the pitch for economic justice to win voters in the heavily populated south and east of the country, where the election probably will be decided.
"The poor don't care about the charges of corruption against her; they care about jobs and education for their kids," says Aisha Gazdar, a Karachi-based documentary filmmaker. "It doesn't matter that some people may be angry at her from the last time. There's also a feeling of: 'Let's give her a second chance, because she can't be as bad as before.' "
Bhutto's critics are less forgiving, insisting that her record as prime minister should be taken as an indication of what another term would look like.
"She showed she was capable of great violence," says Fatima Bhutto, who is a sharp critic of her aunt. "Her last government was marked by assassination squads and torture cells."
Fatima Bhutto's fury stems in large part from the slaying of her father, Mir Murtaza Bhutto. He was shot to death by police in 1996 while his older sister was prime minister. An investigative tribunal later ruled that the incident had to have had the blessing of higher authorities.
The Bhutto family is now a house divided, with Fatima accusing her aunt of being "an enabler for Musharraf and the White House, marching to any orders so long as it lands her in the prime minister's office."
Bhutto's willingness originally to let herself be cast as potential partner for Musharraf in a deal pushed by the Bush administration shows that she is "incredibly out of touch with the ground," Fatima Bhutto says. "People don't take kindly to having their country sold out."
Other analysts note that Bhutto, while wounded by her dismal record in office, remains an attractive candidate.
"She's the most popular individual in Pakistan now," argues Syed Jaffar Ahmed, director of the Pakistani Studies Center at the University of Karachi. "She committed mistakes in government that cost her a lot of credibility. But she has made up some of what she had lost."
Yet Pakistani elections are messy affairs, with all parties guilty of buying votes and stuffing ballots, making predictions difficult. That is one unstated reason why the opposition parties are divided and unsure whether to boycott the election.
Musharraf has had eight years to build local support on the ground. Meanwhile the networks of Bhutto and former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, her main opposition rival, have atrophied.
"Benazir has a lot of support in Lyari, but there is a lot of rigging during elections," says Rind with a wry smile. "Many people don't vote. But others cast their vote for them."
bruce.wallace@latimes.com
Sign Up