Pakistan

By Daniel Blumenthal

Before President Obama and Chinese President Hu Jintao released their joint statement, Obama's Asia trip was underwhelming. But after the statement, Obama's foray into Asia went from empty to harmful.

Before Obama arrived in China, the trip's policy successes were minimal at best. He showed up to a major trade forum, APEC, with no trade policy. If, as Evan Feigenbaum has said, the "business of Asia is business," without a trade policy Obama is putting America out of business in the world's most economically dynamic region. And then he was stiffed by Japanese Prime Minister Hatoyama's outright rejection of the American proposal for a high-level dialogue to resolve basing issues on Okinawa. Not exactly a sterling performance by the new team.

But then came the joint statement after talks with President Hu. Two items in the statement struck me: one about Taiwan, the other in regard to India.

On Taiwan, the statement says:

The two countries reiterated that the fundamental principle of respect for each other's sovereignty and territorial integrity is at the core of the three U.S.-China joint communiqués which guide U.S.-China relations. Neither side supports any attempts by any force to undermine this principle. The two sides agreed that respecting each other's core interests is extremely important to ensure steady progress in U.S.-China relations.

The three communiqués do indeed mention respect for territorial integrity. But it is highly arguable that "respect for ... sovereignty and territorial integrity" represent the "core" of the understandings that led to Sino-American rapprochement. The Taiwan issue was treated more delicately by earlier American statesmen. Their basic idea was that we would acknowledge, without accepting, the position that Taiwan is part of China. We would continue strong, unofficial diplomatic ties with the island and we would provide for its security through the Taiwan Relations Act (TRA). We thus found a way to normalize relations with China without letting China have its way with Taiwan. Both sides of the Strait have prospered since the U.S. rapprochement with China and the signing into law of the TRA and relations have been more or less peaceful.

Now consider the situation across the Strait today. China has built a military capable of destroying the island if America does not assist Taiwan. Though obligated by law, the Obama administration has not sold a single weapon system to Taiwan. There is in fact no U.S.-Taiwan agenda under the Obama administration. It is even more dangerous, then, to stress the parts of the Sino-American normalization documents that most appeal to China. Of course China wants us to reiterate that our respect for "territorial integrity" and "sovereignty" is at the core of the three communiqués. Beijing wants us to accept its argument that Taiwan is part of China and that we should respect their sovereignty over the island. Obama has thus far done so through deed. With the joint statement he comes closer to officially accepting the Chinese claim of sovereignty.

On India, the joint statement says: 

The two sides welcomed all efforts conducive to peace, stability and development in South Asia. They support the efforts of Afghanistan and Pakistan to fight terrorism, maintain domestic stability and achieve sustainable economic and social development, and support the improvement and growth of relations between India and Pakistan. The two sides are ready to strengthen communication, dialogue and cooperation on issues related to South Asia and work together to promote peace, stability and development in that region.

Here, President Obama broke new ground in ways harmful to both American and Indian interests. India and Japan are the two countries within Asia that can check China's desired dominance. For now, China has less to worry about with Japan as the Hatayoma government sorts through its foreign policies. But India is a different matter. It stood firm against China's pressure when the Dalai Lama visited Arunachal Pradesh, an Indian territory claimed by China. Delhi was sending two messages. First, do not interfere in India's internal affairs; the Dalai Lama is free to visit anywhere in India. Second, Arunachal Pradesh is India's territory. China had been putting military pressure on the border region but the Indians did not back down. Delhi is also standing firm in its maritime competition with China in the Indian Ocean. The Indian Navy will not allow China to build a sphere of influence in that maritime region.

Beijing's India strategy is to tie it down in South Asia to stop it from breaking out as a major power. The strategy has three basic pillars. First, Beijing has supported Pakistan's nuclear and conventional military programs. Second, China wants an acknowledged sphere of influence in South Asia. And third, Beijing wants to resurrect the so called "hyphenated" approach to India. It thus needs the United States to again think of India as part of an India-Pakistan problem, rather than as an emerging great power.

During the Bush and Clinton administrations, Delhi and Washington negotiated an arrangement that acknowledged Delhi's global role and increasing influence. This arrangement is of mutual benefit. Pakistan matters less to India as Delhi expands its strategic horizons. As Pakistan's importance to India lessons, so will Indian-Pakistani tensions. But as India frees itself from the weight of its Pakistan problem it has greater maneuverability to increase its influence in East Asia. China is threatened by that.

Thus, China won a diplomatic victory by getting Washington to agree to "cooperate" on issues of peace and development in South Asia. If China and America work together on South Asian issues, such as peace between India and Pakistan, then China is the great power while India is simply another South Asian country that needs help from others to solve its problems. With the joint statement, Obama officially accorded India junior status in Asia.

We should not be surprised by China's positions. What is surprising -- and extremely problematic -- is that on these key issues Obama is acquiescing in them.

FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP/Getty Images

By Dan Twining

What should we make of the current imbroglio over U.S. aid to Pakistan? The fact that a singularly generous American civilian assistance package has led to a crisis in U.S.-Pakistan relations rather than improving them reveals three things: one, Pakistan's continued civil-military imbalance, two, Pakistani public hostility to what has been viewed as Washington's transactional relationship with their country's leaders, and three, the imperative of a sustained U.S. commitment to Pakistan and its region that helps reconstitute the way Pakistan's military and civilian leaders define their interests -- and in turn reconfigures the possibilities for partnership between Islamabad (where the civilian government sits), Rawalpindi (the headquarters of the Pakistani Army), and Washington.

First, Pakistan's military leadership is clearly using the conditionalities contained in the U.S. assistance package as a hammer with which to beat the country's unpopular (and pro-American) civilian president, Asif Ali Zardari. That this is a manufactured rather than a genuine crisis should provide little comfort, however, for it demonstrates how well-intentioned U.S. congressional efforts to strengthen civilian governance in Pakistan can backfire. To take one example, provisions in the final congressional bill authorizing the assistance package urge the civilian government to assume some responsibility for military promotions -- anathema to the generals, who believe civilian meddling in internal Army matters threatens both its institutional integrity and, because they define their country's interests as derivative of the Army's, the national security of Pakistan.

The challenge for American friends of Pakistan is to pursue policies that strengthen the country's civilian institutions while at the same time not unduly threatening the prerogatives of the Army, working overtime to rebalance relations between them while engaging closely with both. But such is the gap between military and civilian capacity that this is the work of years, even decades -- not of a single assistance package. For the moment, Washington has a compelling interest in the sustained survival of civilian government in Pakistan, a country that has been ruled by the military for roughly half its 60-year history. Policies that threaten civilian government by crossing the Army's red lines do not contribute to that end.

Second, America needs to be a better ally of Pakistan's moderate majority of citizens who oppose Taliban or military rule but nonetheless view the United States as an enemy, not an advocate, of liberal values in their country. In the past, the United States has supported military dictatorship in Pakistan: Washington's embrace of General Zia al Haq and its partnership with him to support the Afghan mujahideen fighting Soviet forces in the 1980s contributed to the rise of a strand of militant Islam that had previously been quiescent in Pakistan. Washington's support for Gen. Pervez Musharraf, not only immediately following 9/11 but well after his sell-by date, created political space for opponents of dictatorship to define their dissent with reference to an ideology of anti-American, Islamist zealotry.

Pakistanis lament that their leaders rule only with the support of "the Army, Allah, and America." The United States is not responsible for Pakistan's pathologies, many rooted in its violent birth as a nation and the subsequent choices of its political and military elites. But no U.S. policy to stabilize Pakistan can succeed as long as most Pakistanis view Washington as a fickle, disreputable partner that seeks a transactional relationship with their leaders and then abandons their country when narrow objectives sought by Washington are secured. Setting the matter of conditionalities aside, the Kerry-Lugar civilian assistance package promises to reconstitute relations with the Pakistani people by making sustained investments in educational, judicial, governing, and developmental institutions that provide for their welfare. But the road to a relationship of trust will be long, and American public diplomacy faces extraordinary challenges -- not only in changing Pakistani public attitudes, but in emboldening Pakistani political and military leaders to speak out in defense of partnership with the United States, rather than leveraging it as a weapon against their political adversaries (see above).

Third and relatedly, America must sustain a long-term commitment to Pakistan and its region across the political-economic-military spectrum to change some of the intractable ground realities that lead Pakistani leaders to define their interests in ways inimical to those of the United States. Chris Brose and I have detailed the outlines of such an approach here. The goal of such a strategy would be to gradually reorient Pakistan's definition of national security away from its current manifestation -- supporting the Taliban in Afghanistan and terrorism against India, for instance -- policies destructive to its neighbors, to us, and to itself. This would be a slow, systematic, and evolutionary -- not revolutionary -- approach to changing the strategic context of Pakistani decision-making and so nudging Pakistan in a direction more favorable to the interests of the United States -- and the welfare of the Pakistani people.

The most important element of such a strategy is for the United States and its Western and local allies to win the war against the Taliban in Afghanistan. Construction of an Afghan state that can defeat the insurgency and govern its people legitimately, in conjunction with sustained investment in Pakistani civic institutions and a reorientation of the Pakistani military's worldview, would in the long term create a dynamic in South Asia in which states like India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan define their security in ways that are positive- rather than zero-sum. It would demonstrate to the jihadists intent on undermining civilian governments in Delhi, Islamabad, and Kabul that they have no hope, separating their violent aspirations from those of citizenries that instead aspire to modernity, security, and opportunity.

By contrast, failure in Afghanistan, no matter how many American resources were subsequently shifted to Pakistan, would only compound the latter's insecurity and misgovernance. The policy conundrums America confronts in South Asia today would pale against those we should expect if the Taliban continue their ascendance in Afghanistan, emboldening their fellow extremists in Pakistan. Just as our country should finish what we started in Afghanistan in part because it will strengthen the forces of moderation next door, so American assistance to Pakistan should empower our natural allies there rather than put them on the defensive.

RIZWAN TABASSUM/AFP/Getty Images

By Dan Twining

The problem with the current debate over Afghanistan is that it is too focused on Afghanistan. There is no question that the intrinsic importance of winning wars our country chooses to fight -- to secure objectives that remain as compelling today as they were on September 12, 2001 -- is itself reason for President Obama to put in place a strategy for victory in Afghanistan. But the larger frame has been lost in the din of debate over General McChrystal's leaked assessment, President Obama's intention to ramp up or draw down in Afghanistan, and the legitimacy of the Afghan election. In fact, it is vital for the United States and its allies to recommit to building an Afghan state that can accountably govern its people and defeat the Taliban insurgency -- for reasons that have to do not only with Afghanistan's specific pathologies but with the implications of failure for the wider region and America's place in the international system.

The surreal belief in some quarters that abandoning Afghanistan -- described as a "graveyard of empires" with its complicated tribes, forbidding terrain, and peripheral strategic importance -- would not have direct and bloody consequences for the United States, never mind the Afghan people, can be answered with three numbers: 9-11. It is troubling that our political and foreign policy elites even need to engage this debate (including its more sophisticated but equally illusory variants like moving to an "over-the-horizon" strike-and-retreat strategy). At the same time, the experts (correctly) advocating a counterinsurgency strategy make the same mistake of framing their arguments purely with reference to Afghanistan's internal dynamics. As important as they are, they constitute only part of a wider strategic landscape that would be upended by a U.S. decision to reduce its political and military commitment to Afghanistan.

A recent trip to Islamabad and Lahore revealed to me that most Pakistani elites -- including the small minority that could credibly be described as sympathetic to Western goals in Afghanistan -- already believe that the game is up: the will of the transatlantic allies is broken, Obama doesn't have the courage or vision to see America's mission in Afghanistan through to victory, and the U.S. is well along the road to walking away from Afghanistan as it did after 1989. This widespread Pakistani belief has encouraged behavior deeply inimical to Washington's regional aims, with the effect that the American debate over whether Afghanistan is worth it is inspiring Pakistani actions that will make success all the harder to achieve.

After all, why shouldn't the Pakistani security services continue to invest in their friendly relations with the Taliban if Mullah Omar and company soon will take power in Afghanistan's Pashtun heartland? Why should the Pakistani military take on the militant groups that regularly launch cross-border attacks into Afghanistan when the NATO targets of those attacks will soon slink away in defeat? Why should the Pakistani government get serious about wrapping up the Quetta Shura when the Afghan Taliban appears to be ascendant in the face of Western weakness? Why should Pakistan's intelligence service break its ties to Lashkar-e-Taiba, one of the world's most potent terrorist groups, when it forms such a useful instrument with which to bleed U.S. ally India? And why should Pakistani civilian and military leaders overtly cooperate with the United States when it appears such a weak and unreliable ally of the Afghan people -- incapable, despite its singular wealth and resources, of defeating a 25,000-man insurgency in one of the poorest countries on Earth?

As Chris Brose and I recently argued, it is vital for the West to prevail in Afghanistan because of its effect in shaping Pakistan's strategic future. Proponents of drawing down in Afghanistan on the grounds that Pakistan is the more important strategic prize have it only half right: if Pakistan is the strategic prize, it should be unthinkable not to press for victory in Afghanistan given the spillover effects of a Western defeat there. All of Pakistan's pathologies -- from terrorist sanctuary in ungoverned spaces, to radicalized public opinion that creates an enabling environment for violent extremism, to lack of economic opportunity that incentivizes militancy, to the (in)security of Pakistan's nuclear arsenal, to the military's oversized role in political life in ways that stunt the development of civilian institutions -- all of this will intensify should Afghanistan succumb to the Taliban as the West withdraws.

These dynamics, in turn, will destabilize India in ways that could torpedo the country's rise to world power -- and the strategic dividends America would reap from India's success. New Delhi is now a truer proponent of Washington's original objectives in Afghanistan -- the Taliban's decisive defeat by military force rather than reconciliation and the construction of a capable Afghan democracy -- than some American leaders are now. Afghanistan is in India's backyard -- they shared a border until 1947 -- and the collapse of its government would destabilize Pakistan in ways that would quickly cost Indian dearly. Indian strategists fear that the spillover from a Taliban victory in Afghanistan would induce Pakistan's "Lebanonization," with the Pakistani Taliban becoming a kind of South Asian Hezbollah that would launch waves of crippling attacks against India. India cannot rise to be an Asian balancer, global security provider, and engine of the world economy if it is mired in interminable proxy conflict with terrorists emanating from a weak or collapsing state armed with nuclear weapons on its border.

The strategic implications of a Western defeat in Afghanistan for American relations with other major powers are similarly troubling. The biggest game-changer in the nuclear standoff with Iran is not new sanctions or military action but a popular uprising by the Iranian people that changes the character of the radical regime in Tehran -- a prospect one would expect to be meaningfully diminished by the usurpation through violence of the Afghan government, against the will of a majority of Afghans, by the religious extremists of the Taliban. And despite welcome new unity in the West on a tougher approach to Iran's development of nuclear weapons following revelations of a new nuclear complex in Qum, how can Washington, London, Paris, and Berlin stare down the leaders of Iran -- a potentially hegemonic Middle Eastern state with an advanced conventional and near-nuclear arsenal and a vast national resource base -- if they can't even hold their own against the cave-dwelling, Kalashnikov-wielding despots of the Taliban?

Russia appears to be quietly reveling in the prospect that NATO, which appeared so threatening to Russian eyes during its multiple rounds of enlargement during the 1990s, could be defeated in its first real out-of-area operation. A NATO defeat in Afghanistan would call into question the future of the alliance and the credibility of American leadership with it, possibly creating a new and lasting transatlantic breach and intensifying concerns about the alliance's ability to protect weak European states against a resurgent Russia. China has no interest in Afghanistan's collapse into a sanctuary for Islamist extremists, including Uighers who militate against China's rule in Xinjiang. But a Western defeat in Afghanistan, which if historical precedent holds would be followed by a bout of U.S. isolationism, would only create more space for China to pursue its (for now) peaceful rise.

And that is the point: the debate over whether to prevail in Afghanistan is about so much more. An American recommitment to a sustained counterinsurgency strategy that turned around the conflict would demonstrate that the United States and its democratic allies remain the principal providers of public goods -- in this case, the security and stability of a strategically vital region that threatens the global export of violent extremism -- in the international system. A new and sustained victory strategy for Afghanistan would show that Washington is singularly positioned to convene effective coalitions and deliver solutions to intractable international problems in ways that shore up the stability of an international economic and political order that has provided greater degrees of human freedom and prosperity than any other.

By contrast, a U.S. decision to wash its hands of Afghanistan would send a different message to friends and competitors alike. It would hasten the emergence of a different kind of international order, one in which history no longer appeared to be on the side of the United States and its friends. Islamic extremism, rather than continuing to lose ground to the universal promise of democratic modernity, would gain new legs -- after all, Afghan Islamists would have defeated their second superpower in a generation. Rival states that contest Western leadership of the international order and reject the principles of open society would increase their influence at America's expense. Just as most Afghans are not prepared to live under a new Taliban regime, so most Americans are surely not prepared to live in a world in which the United States voluntarily cedes its influence, power, and moral example to others who share neither our interests nor our values.

By Christian Brose

The Obama administration is to be congratulated for its decision to provide $100 million of new assistance to Pakistan to address the humanitarian and refugee crisis caused by the Taliban's expanding violence. This is generous policy and smart strategy, which hopefully will not only save lives, but also provide greater evidence to Pakistanis that the United States is on the right side of their aspirations for a successful, civilian-led democracy. I was especially struck by this line from Secretary Clinton's announcement:

Altogether, the United States has provided more than $3.4 billion since 2002 to alleviate suffering and promote economic growth, education, health and good governance in Pakistan.

Consciously or not, Clinton put the lie to one of the Democrats' favorite and oft-repeated talking points -- that all the Bush administration did in Pakistan was prop up a military dictator and sell him F-16s. Now maybe we can all start trying to solve the real problem: why so much of that $3.4 billion of non-military assistance seems to have done so little good, either for the Pakistani people or for America's interests and image. Answering that question alone would go a long way to ensuring that the even greater sums of taxpayer dollars that we are poised to pour into that country will actually end up advancing our strategic interest in, and Pakistani aspirations for, an effective democratic state in Pakistan.

By Dov Zakheim

The momentum of Pakistani instability appears to be accelerating: Six months ago there was no evidence that the Taliban would break out of its mountain hideaways in the Northwest Frontier Province to move within 60 miles of Islamabad. While the Pakistani Army may finally have woken up to the threat, the loyalties of its rank and file are far from clear. In short, Pakistan in 2009 is looking more and more like Iran thirty years earlier, when the seemingly impregnable Shah fell in the face of hostile demonstrations and a passive army.

The United States cannot afford to stand by and let Pakistan either fall to the Taliban or fragment in some way. Yet it would be foolhardy to try to prop up any Pakistani government, be it the current Zardari regime, or as recent press reporting indicates, the opposition leader Nawaz Sharif. It was the last Sharif government whose incompetence and corruption prompted the 1999 military coup led by Pervez Musharraf. Sharif's government also conducted Pakistan's first nuclear test, continued the long-time support of A.Q. Khan's activities, and launched the first Kargil War. Why a new Sharif government would be more reliable or competent than its predecessor is not at all clear. Furthermore, American efforts to promote particular governments have not exactly been overwhelmingly successful in recent years, including in Pakistan itself. Surely one can ask if Pakistan is better off today under Zardari than it was under Musharraf.

Instead of trying to play politics in Islamabad, the United States should employ its forces to support those of Pakistan's military. Only in this manner can there be some assurance that Pakistani morale will not collapse, and that the Taliban insurrection can be crushed. The Pakistani military can be ruthless, and nothing else will do in dealing with the Taliban. American tactics and firepower can back up that ruthlessness.

It might be argued that the United States should try to "take out" Pakistan's nuclear capability. In so doing, it would certainly ensure that the Pakistani military would turn on the United States and come to terms with the Taliban. The United States must fight alongside Pakistan's army, not against it.
 
Now is not the time for squeamishness or political correctness. Do-gooders no doubt will howl at the sight of the collateral damage that would inevitably result if American units enable Pakistani forces to pulverize Taliban strongholds. The Zardari government may howl that America has sidestepped it by going directly to the military.

Let them all howl. A nuclear armed Pakistan, or even worse, a fragmented country whose nuclear weapons are up for grabs, would result in far more cries of anguish by far more people than anything that might result from the elimination of the Taliban threat. Time is running out. The United States must act now.

By Peter Feaver

So far, I have seen more continuity than change in President Obama's national security policy, but that does not mean I am blind to any change whatsoever. And even marginal changes can have some significant implications down the line (change the bearing of an aircraft carrier 1 degree and then check back in on it in a few weeks of steaming and you will see what I mean).

It is with that spirit that I have been thinking about the Obama team's Pakistan policy and their diplomatic approach thereto. Obama came to office believing that we had far more leverage over the behavior of the Pakistan government than President Bush had been wielding. Under Bush, according to Obama, Pakistan had enjoyed something of a free ride -- a blank check given in the form of unconditional support for Musharraf. Not surprisingly, unpressed, Pakistan had consistently under-delivered. Bush insiders might agree that Pakistan had under-delivered, whether in terms of information about the A.Q. Khan network or vigorous action against the Taliban, but the Bush administration generally subscribed to the "get more flies with honey" maxim, at least in public dealings with Pakistan.

Thus, I was struck by Secretary Clinton's comment that Pakistan's leaders were "abdicating" to the Taliban. I don't necessarily disagree with her analysis, but I am surprised to see it stated so publicly and so, well, undiplomatically. She is a very careful speaker, so I assume this was a deliberate ramping up of public pressure on the Pakistani leadership. It is not quite brass-knuckles diplomacy, but it is heading in that direction. (Put it this way: if Rumsfeld can be endlessly pilloried for one solitary stray comment about "old Europe," can you imagine how he would have been savaged for such rough treatment of a strategic partner as vital as Pakistan?)

I think this is a more systematic difference in diplomatic approach extending well beyond Pakistan. It fairly describes, I believe, the slight tonal difference between Bush and Obama on Iraq and Afghanistan and, perhaps more stridently, on Israel. In each case, Obama or his key advisors appear to believe that the United States was not demanding enough when it came to dealing with these partners.

Curiously, it is paired with an entirely opposite yet apposite contrast regarding how to deal with major international troublemakers, such as Venezuela, Cuba, or Iran. Here, the Bush administration approach tended to be from the "call a spade a spade" school of candor, whereas Obama is squarely in "get more flies with honey" mode.

The point here is not that one team is diplomatic and the other team is not, nor even that one team is sweet while the other is tart. Rather, the point is that the Obama team appears to believe that wherever Bush was sweet, he should have been more tart, and vice versa. These are not huge differences, but for such nuances do diplomats wrestle and squirm.

Yet the acid test of such diplomacy is not whether it makes the striped-pants-set squirm, but rather whether it will work. If the Obama team is basically right, and the United States had far more leverage over Pakistani behavior than was effectively wielded, and if they are right again that public rough stuff will get Pakistan more on side, we should see the results soon enough. And if they are right about the greater efficacy of sweet-talking Iran, that should bear fruit fairly soon, too. If not, this could start to look like a mild symptom of Anything But Bush syndrome -- not fatal, but not likely to lead to complete health either.

By Dan Twining

As President Obama hosts the leaders of Pakistan and Afghanistan in Washington tomorrow and calls on Congress to increase assistance to both countries, his administration can claim credit for regionalizing America's strategy for victory in Afghanistan. This was an overdue shift, one recommended by the Bush administration's various 2008 strategic reviews of Afghanistan policy. But Pakistan's latest internal crisis underlines how the fusion of "Af-Pak" as a guide to U.S. interests in South Asia also carries risks. 

Clearly, taking into account and leveraging regional dynamics is essential to the success of U.S. policy towards both countries. But there is also a danger that the unitary "Af-Pak" prism fails to sufficiently account for America's differentiated interests in Afghanistan and Pakistan. To put it bluntly, U.S. policy towards Pakistan offers some compelling lessons for what not to do in Afghanistan. 

Under successive Democratic and Republican administrations, the United States personalized Pakistan policy, investing in a single leader at the expense of a broader constellation of civic forces. In doing so, Washington has become a decisive actor in Pakistan's domestic politics; Pakistanis lament that their leaders rule only with the consent of the "Army, Allah, and America." U.S. interventionism has unwittingly weakened political parties, discouraged coalition-building, stifled reform, and tied American interests to unpopular strongmen.   

Meanwhile, billions of dollars in unconditional assistance to Pakistan's military has created perverse incentives for its leaders to manage rather than defeat Islamist militancy in order to keep the aid money flowing. Flush with American resources, Pakistan's security services have played a double game: fighting some militant groups while sponsoring others as instruments of strategic influence -- including, ironically, against U.S. forces in Afghanistan, as well as against friendly governments in Kabul and New Delhi. 

Although its government and armed forces contain many patriots, its dependence on and manipulation of foreign aid flows means that Pakistan risks becoming, like some African countries, a rentier state in which predatory elites pursue policies designed to maximize external patronage in service to parochial interests, rather than national ones. The Pakistani military's reluctance to engage Taliban militants in Swat can be understood in this light. The military is most useful as a partner of the United States -- one deserving of billions of dollars in new hardware and equipment, naturally -- only as long as the militant threat persists. This creates incentives to keep jihadism simmering without boiling over.

So what are the lessons for Afghanistan? America's interest lies in a genuinely free and fair national election this fall. Washington shouldn't play favorites; nor should it appear to be actively undermining President Karzai's candidacy, as some senior administration officials seemed to do earlier this year. Western assistance should build Afghan capacity at all levels of government, rather than creating structural dependencies on international aid that hollow out domestic institutions, decrease incentives for reform, and benefit a narrow ruling elite.

The United States must be especially careful to match its sustained buildup of Afghan security forces with investments of equal scale in Afghanistan's civilian institutions.  Governance and development require security.  But if the Afghan National Army - by far the most capable institution in the country today - retains this role over time, we will have put Afghanistan on a slippery slope to Army dominion over political life, as in Pakistan.

America can afford to match its military buildup with sustained investments in Afghanistan's civilian institutions, as the Kerry-Lugar legislation before Congress proposes to do for Pakistan, because the Taliban in both countries are defeatable adversaries. More Taliban foot soldiers fight for money than love of jihad, and polling by the Asia Foundation shows they enjoy the support of only 7 percent of Afghans. By contrast, 78 percent believe democracy is the best form of government.

In Pakistan, Islamists garnered their highest popular support during General Musharraf's dictatorship; in the 2008 elections, Islamist parties received only a fraction of the vote. While President Zardari is deeply unpopular, polls show that over 4 in 5 Pakistanis support his mainstream rival Nawaz Sharif, who condemns Taliban efforts to extend medieval rule in Swat across the Pakistani heartland. 

Despite all its problems, a moderate majority and strong army make Pakistan unripe for an Iranian-style Islamic revolution. But weak institutions and dysfunctional civil-military relations handicap the government's ability to respond to the Taliban challenge. That is why Congress must carefully benchmark military assistance -- both to promote near-term counterterrorism goals and to redress the civil-military imbalance that remains the Achilles' heel of the Pakistani state. 

It is also why the international community should focus on "hardening" Afghanistan against cross-border threats from Pakistan as part of a generational commitment to state-building in both countries. The alternative -- tying progress in Afghanistan to the resolution of Pakistan's enormous security and governance challenges, as senior administration officials have suggested -- is a recipe for strategic failure.   

A successful South Asia policy, while attentive to regional dynamics, will pursue differentiated strategies toward Pakistan, Afghanistan -- and India. An enduring Indo-U.S. partnership remains the region's great strategic prize. Just as President Bush de-hyphenated India and Pakistan, so should Obama de-hyphenate Af-Pak.

By Christian Brose

Amid the many articles in today's papers on the Obama administration's growing concern about events in Pakistan, this part of the story in the Washington Post jumped out at me:

The day after the Buner reports surfaced, Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton infuriated the Pakistani government by telling Congress it was "abdicating to the Taliban and to the extremists" and that the situation posed a "mortal threat" to the world.

"Absolutely, they're getting irritated," a senior U.S. official said of the Pakistanis. Clinton, he said, "knows she went too far" in her unscripted testimony. "But on the other hand," he said, "it was that kind of statement that helped wake up the Pakistanis."

I really hope the administration doesn't believe this. At the time of Clinton's statement, the Taliban was taking and occupying territory 60 miles north of Islamabad. Something tells me Pakistan's leaders were wide awake to the problem they had on their hands, and they didn't need anyone, least of all the secretary of state, to point it out for them. For the U.S. government, criticizing Pakistan publicly is the rhetorical equivalent of drone warfare: It can be helpful if done competently, quietly, and sparingly; disastrous and self-defeating if not.

All of this reminds me of the administration's accurate but deeply unhelpful criticisms of Karzai back in January and February. At the time, it behooved us to hold our tongues, because we might be stuck with Karzai for several more years. Now it's looking increasingly clear that this will in fact be the case. The administration should keep this in mind as it talks about Pakistan today. No matter how inadequate and frustrating Pakistan's civilian leadership may be, let's air on the side of saying nothing publicly rather than saying something that might undermine them -- for if we are not still stuck with these guys in a few years time, we will have far bigger problems.