Wall Street Journal

ISLAMABAD, WEST PAKISTAN.—The government of Pakistan, seeking to repress an independence struggle by the 75 million Bengalis of East Pakistan, has several options—all of them bad.
It can press ahead with its policy of armed and bloody repression, which, in the view of almost all foreign observers—though not of Pakistan's military junta—is eventually bound to fail, draining West Pakistan in the process.
It can precipitate, or be provoked into, a war with neighboring India, a war Pakistan is almost sure to lose.
It can admit the ultimate hopelessness of holding East Pakistan and withdraw, thereby discrediting the Pakistani army, setting off centrifugal pressures among ethnic minorities in West Pakistan and ending Pakistan's pretensions of rivaling India as a power on the subcontinent.
A fourth possibility—peaceful political accommodation between the government and the East Pakistanis—is considered an impossibility by nearly all observers. Too much blood has flowed; too much bitterness remains.

BEST BET: MORE REPRESSION

Ten days of talks and travels here in West Pakistan indicate that the first option, continued repression, is most likely to be pursued. The third option, withdrawal, is considered least likely. But the second option, war with India, remains a very real danger—one that would affect not only India and Pakistan but also the world powers lined up behind them.
It has been nearly six months since the Pakistani civil war began with army attacks in Dacca, the East Pakistani capital, and by now the results are well-known: several hundred thousand Bengali civilians dead; massive physical destruction and economic dislocation in East Pakistan; eight million Bengali refugees crammed into Indian border camps; Indian support (arms, training, sanctuaries) for the Mukti Bahini guerrilla forces in East Pakistan; and frequent shellings and other border incidents between Pakistani and Indian military forces.
And for nearly six months now, there has been talk of war in both Islamabad and New Delhi.
Diplomats in both capitals believe that neither country currently wants a full-scale war. But that doesn't mean there won't be one. The almost daily border incidents provide the running risk of miscalculation and escalation. A potentially severe famine in East Pakistan this fall could send millions of additional refugees streaming into India and set off an irresistible public war clamor.

WHO WILL MAKE THE AMPUTATION?

And, in the longer run, observers here see the danger of a desperate, beleaguered Pakistani government finally realizing the inevitability of losing East Pakistan and preferring—for domestic political reasons—to lose it by way of war with India. "There may well come a point when amputation by India seems more politically palatable to the Pakistanis than performing surgery on themselves," one envoy here says.
At this stage, however, desperation isn't the mood of West Pakistan.
For one thing, this newly constructed capital with its empty eight-lane boulevards and gleaming white government buildings is even further removed from the packed paddy land, the death, hatred and fear of East Pakistan than is indicated by the more than 1,000 miles that separate West Pakistan from East Pakistan. This is an autocratic society in which decisions are made by a handful of generals at the top. While to some extent they may be victims of their own propaganda on the situation in the East, they firmly believe they are following the path of righteousness in preserving the unity of Pakistan and perhaps the purity of the Moslem religion.

SPOON-FEEDING PROPAGANDA

As for the other 50 million West Pakistanis, they are spoon-fed an information diet consisting of accounts of military successes, diatribes against Bengali "miscreants" and Indian troublemakers, and assurances that all is under control. But, ignorant or informed, they would probably agree with their leaders' policies.
And, while the civil war isn't going nearly so well for the army as people here are told and while it may well be hopeless for the army in the long run, in the short term the army has succeeded in reasserting control over much of East Pakistan. The Mukti Bahini guerrillas need more arms, training and experience. In the view of most observers on the scene, Bangla Desh (the Bengal nation) will be years, rather than months, in the making.
Some effects of the civil war have been felt here, and while the economic ones in particular may be serious, they aren't yet considered severe enough to translate into political pressures that an authoritarian government has to worry much about. "This government may turn out to be brittle, but it still seems strong," a Western diplomat says.
Economically the civil war's effects are showing here in some rising prices and scattered factory layoffs as well as in a much-reduced international credit rating. But, given the fact that East Pakistan's economy is a shambles both as a producer of raw materials (and thus of foreign exchange) and as a captive market for West Pakistan's manufactured goods, the surprising thing to most observers is that West Pakistan's economy is still functioning reasonably well.
The government has at least postponed severe economic troubles with an anti-inflationary program, a unilateral moratorium on foreign-debt payments and some skillful export promotion in the Middle East. Dwindling foreign-exchange reserves, sharp inflation and widespread unemployment may be inevitable costs of the civil war, economists say, but not for another six months to a year. "There's still a lot of fat in this economy that hasn't been pared yet," a Western economic analyst asserts.
Coffins and condolence letters are steadily trickling back here from the eastern front, and their effect is certainly being felt, particularly in the traditional military recruiting grounds of the north Punjab plain and in the sunbaked villages of the North-West Frontier. But the reaction in these areas is said to be that men have always died in wars and the only answer is to kill more Bengalis in return.
"I finally heard a Pakistani army officer say they are committing genocide in East Pakistan," an American woman living here says.
Was he upset about it? she is asked.
"Oh, no. He said they should be doing more of it," she replies.
In a recent television interview, Pakistan's president, Gen. Yahya Khan, asked: "How can a government repress its own people?" How absurd an idea, he meant to say. But brutal repression is a Pakistan army policy. In the East, the question is real, not rhetorical.
The people of the West and of the East are different in nearly every respect. To a tall, tan-skinned Punjabi from an area in the West where life is a perennial struggle to coax a bit of wheat out of the arid soil, the small, dark Bengali of the East, waist-deep in his rice paddy is more strange creature than fellow citizen. All that tied the two together when Pakistan was formed 23 years ago was the Moslem religion and a common hatred or fear of Hindu India. That common denominator couldn't outweigh the differences.
It is a truism to say that life is cheap in Asia. And when a cyclone killed several hundred thousand Bengalis last fall, even the Bengalis in Dacca, only a hundred miles away from the disaster area, were largely unconcerned; people in West Pakistan were even less so. In the same sense, the present plight of the Bengalis is hardly pulling at Punjabi heartstrings.
Even among many of the more sophisticated West Pakistanis, there is an attitude of indifference and cynicism toward the Bengalis. "Spindly little low-caste Hindu converts," is the definition of one British-educated colonel. "The problem is that there are too many of them (Bengalis)," a wealthy Karachi businessman says. "If you fire a bullet here in West Pakistan, you'll hit a tree or maybe a bird. But in East Pakistan a stray bullet kills 17 Bengalis." (Of course, this avoids the issue, because most bullets fired by the army in East Pakistan haven't been stray and most of the brutality hasn't been random.)

PORTRAIT OF' A "Dove"

A West Pakistani "dove" is a man who says that East Pakistan is poor, overpopulated and problem-ridden—a perpetual drain on West Pakistani development with or without civil war—and that West Pakistan would be better off without it.
And indeed a good case can be made for West Pakistan's going it alone. While the West has depended upon, and exploited, the East's economy for more than two decades, the West probably could do well enough on its own, as the current lack of economic crisis here indicates. Economists consider West Pakistan far more developable than the East with its Malthusian population pressures. And some West Pakistanis agree that ethnically and geographically West Pakistan's future should logically lie with the Middle East rather than East Asia.
But the thought of a truncated Pakistan, a nation of 50 million instead of 125 million, a small western neighbor of India instead of a power able to challenge Indian hegemony on the subcontinent—all this is too much for even the "doves" to accept.
Moreover, people here say withdrawal from East Pakistan would have domestic as well as international repercussions. West Pakistan's minorities—Pathans, Sindus, Baluchis—all are chaffing to some extent under Punjabi domination. The Baluchis and Pathans are tribal people who for years have sporadically engaged in armed uprisings against the government. Not long ago, for example, some 3,000 armed Pathans came down out of the rugged mountains along the Afghanistan frontier to challenge 1,000 Pakistani policemen over an issue of land title.
And the government recently saw fit to arrest a leading Pathan politician suspected of pushing a Pathan independence movement. So granting independence to the Bengalis could spur similar pressures among groups here in the West, the government fears and diplomats agree. (It could also set off pressures among Bengalis and other ethnic groups in India—a danger that some Indian officials, despite their public championing of Bangla Desh, are well aware of.)

DISCREDITING THE ARMY

Abandoning East Pakistan under guerrilla pressure would also discredit the Pakistani army, generally considered the only viable institution in the country. West Pakistan is an area with martial traditions dating back through the British Indian empire to the time of the Mogul conquerors, but as a nation it hasn't any political traditions at all.
"Defeat for the Pakistani army would have incalculable effects here because the army is what holds this society together. Discredit the army and there is no telling what forces would be let loose. It wouldn't just be like Dien Bien Phu, pinning ribbons of glorious defeat on the regimental banners and marching home," a longtime Western resident says.
So some West Pakistanis believe they must continue the war of repression because it is a righteous cause and because it will succeed. And other West Pakistanis believe they must persist with a policy that may fail. The immediate effect on the Bengalis, of course, is the same.
But in the process, the Pakistan government is showing some signs of pragmatism in tactics if not in strategy.
There is an increased awareness here of the importance of world public opinion and the need for international support. The government is even trying to maintain friendly relations with Russia, which recently signed a defense treaty with India. And while the weight of world opinion isn't strong enough to make the Pakistan government stop killing Bengalis, diplomats believe it will restrain the government from executing Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the Bengali leader on trial for treason. The trial verdict is hardly in doubt since President Yahya has already branded Mujib a traitor, but execution would further alienate Pakistan's aid donors and would increase war fever in India.

REALISM AT THE TOP

The government here also is said to be realistic, at least at the top level, about its prospects in a war with India. While army officers tend to say—and probably believe—that one Moslem soldier is the equal of any 10 Hindus, the leadership is thought to be aware of less subjective military realities. India's 900,000-man army not only is twice the size of Pakistan's but also is generally considered to have more modern and more ample weaponry. And, unlike Pakistan, India by now has a defense industry that makes it self-sufficient in a variety of arms and equipment. In 1965 the two nations fought an 18-day war that left Pakistan totally exhausted and India almost so. Military analysts think both nations could fight a bit longer now, but they say Pakistan would almost surely tire first.
Thus, at least so long as the Pakistan government believes it can hang onto East Pakistan, there is good reason for it to avoid a war with India. And thus for all the tough talk in Islamabad, the government has resisted the provocation of India's open support for the Mukti Bahini. "We have played it cool," says a senior official of the foreign ministry in Islamabad.
Western diplomats also believe the Pakistan government has finally been convinced of the seriousness of the food situation in East Pakistan. Subduing the Bengalis may still be a much higher priority than feeding them, but diplomats believe Pakistan is anxious to avoid the severe sort of famine that would send millions more refugees spilling across the Indian border. "If they (Pakistan) can't feed East Pakistan, we will," an American diplomat says. "The U.S. has made a national decision that it will solve the food problem there." But such a decision, by Pakistan or the U.S., may prove difficult to implement, given the badly damaged transportation system and continuing military activity in the East.

FURTHER INDICATIONS OF PRAGMATISM

Other signs of pragmatism, or even moderation, that diplomats point to include an offer by President Yahya to hold talks with Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, the recent appointment of a civilian governor in East Pakistan to replace tough General Tikka Khan, agreement to permit a limited number of United Nations relief workers into East Pakistan, and willingness to permit UN peace observers in East Pakistan if India agreed to permit them on her side of the border. The proposals for peace observers as well as for Yahya- Gandhi talks were rejected by India.
(When President Yahya was asked by a reporter for the French paper Le Figaro what he would say to Mrs. Gandhi in such a meeting, he is reported to have replied: "I would say to her, 'Shut up, woman. Leave me alone and let my refugees come back.' " But, for all his military bluntness, President Yahya is considered something of a moderate among his military peers. To his right are men like Tikka Khan, who, according to a Westerner who knows him, "says collective punishment like you or I say good morning."
Some of these small signs of reasonableness by the government here may be attributable to American influence—or so say U.S. officials. By continuing to permit Pakistan to import American military equipment licensed prior to March 25, by continuing economic aid to Pakistan and by avoiding any public condemnation of Pakistan's treatment of the Bengalis, the U.S. has retained a measure of leverage in Islamabad. The price paid for this leverage has been deterioration of American relations with India, where the U.S. is widely regarded as an ally of Pakistan and thus an enemy of India.
Whatever leverage the U.S. has here (and officials admit it is limited) hasn't been enough to make Pakistan recognize responsibility for the roughly eight million Bengali refugees now in India. President Yahya recently claimed that there are only two million real refugees, that the rest are Indian paupers whom Pakistan would never take back. The implication, at least to the Indians, is that Pakistan may someday be prepared to accept the return of about two million Moslem refugees but will close its borders to the six million refugees who are Hindus.

THE UNCOMFORTABLE AMERICANS

If India considers America an outright ally of Pakistan, so do some Pakistanis—and this makes American officials uncomfortable. "Some Pakistanis have the idea we are going to back them up in a war against India: We are trying to dissuade them of that notion," one diplomat explains. Still the frontier city of Peshawar is rife with rumors that America is about to reopen an air base that was closed down several years ago, And if there is an Indo-Pakistani war in which the U.S. stands on the sidelines calling for peace (as it likely would do), there could well be anti-American protests here as well as in India.
Internally, President Yahya still talks of turning over power to elected civilian leaders, but few diplomatic observers believe it can be done within the four-month time limit the president promised in a speech June 26. And most diplomats think that if and when the turnover takes place, the generals will retain a considerable share of political power.
It was the national elections for a constituent assembly early this year that led to the civil war, since the Bengali Awami League won a majority of seats on a platform of East Pakistan autonomy that the generals weren't prepared to accept. Army arrests of Awami League leaders and attacks on Awami League followers on March 25 constituted the opening round of civil hostilities. Some generals now blame President Yahya and his promises of democracy for having caused the whole civil crisis.
The government has declared a partial amnesty for elected representatives from East Pakistan who have taken refuge in India. But the Awami League, along with its program, remains outlawed, and few Awami League representatives have returned.
In the West the leading politician is Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, long considered pro-Chinese and anti-American. These days, at least to an American newsman, he talks in moderate tones about his daughter at Radcliffe, his friendship for America, his interest in peace and the benefits of Swedish-style socialism.

THE VIEWS OF BHUTTO

Mr. Bhutto says he recently told President Yahya: "If you don't turn over power within four months, don't bother turning it over at all. Then you keep Pakistan for as long as it lasts." Mr. Bhutto believes that he could stop the "exploitation" of the East Pakistanis and reach a political settlement with them. But diplomats here doubt that Mr. Bhutto is in any position to issue ultimatums to President Yahya or that Mr. Bhutto, any more than President Yahya, could reach a political compromise with the Bengalis. The general view is that the Bengalis by now will settle for nothing less than total independence.
In any case, Mr. Bhutto may not get the chance to try. A number of observers believe the military leaders will engineer a coalition among three conservative Moslem League parties that could be more trusted to manage affairs along lines the military approves of.
While the economic situation is considerably less critical than Western analysts would have predicted five months ago, one cost that is hard to compute is the civil war's effect on West Pakistan's long-term development. Development planning, as well as spending, appears to be close to a standstill, and that may have serious effects in years to come.
Another unknown in the economic picture is the price that would have to be paid to put East Pakistan's shattered economy back together, to rebuild its devastated towns and to relieve the misery of its people. It is a price Pakistan may never have to pay. But an independent Bangla Desh won't be able to afford it either.