The repercussions of David Cameron?s recent statement in Bangalore that Pakistan is ?allowed to look both ways? and ?promote the export? of terror seem set to continue for some time to come. It has been reported that senior ISI officials have cancelled a planned trip to Britain to discuss security cooperation and many have suggested that President Zardari will have strong words for Cameron when the pair meets today at Chequers.
The British media have cast Cameron?s comments as one of a series of foreign-policy gaffes: his remark in Washington that Britain has been the junior partner of the US since 1940 and references in his Istanbul speech to Israel?s creation of a ?prison camp? in Gaza and attempts by ?the protectionists, the polarised and the prejudiced? to block Turkey?s application for membership in the EU. Cameron?s aides insist that he does not regret his Bangalore remarks, insisting instead that they are part of a pre-meditated strategy of plain-speaking diplomacy.
Judging whether there is a gap between Cameron?s intentions and the outcomes prompted by his speeches is a rather difficult exercise. Much of the secrecy that surrounds diplomacy is there precisely so that foreign diplomats and local political elites can tell home truths to one another behind closed doors, away from the hurly-burly of the media spotlight. Diplomatic honesty shorn of its niceties usually only makes it into the public domain, when one side or the other leaks confidential discussions to gain a negotiating advantage. Deliberate public candour on this scale is rare enough that we have to consider seriously that it may be intended as part of a concerted political strategy.
A Sir Humphrey-esque story about British diplomacy has it that a foreign secretary alarmed by an anti-British speech given by a foreign asked his diplomats to tell him what the speech meant for Britain: ?Nothing, Minister; it was entirely for domestic consumption?.
Understanding whether David Cameron?s plain speaking has succeeded or failed depends entirely on knowing who his audiences were and why. At the broadest level, Cameron?s statements display a resolve to show a robustness alongside the overt ?spirit of humility? in which he went to India. Speaking about Gaza in Turkey and Pakistani support for terrorism in India is more than just a demonstration of Britain?s willingness to be courageous enough to say what is needed: it also shows that Britain is willing to speak hard truths for the benefit of the people to whom it matters the most. This part of his message came through loud and clear. What seems to have become lost in the media furore in the UK is the message he intended ?for domestic consumption?: that Britain is still big enough to be noticed when it speaks out.
Many have argued?correctly?that nothing David Cameron said is new or surprising. Britain has a long history of speaking out against Israeli actions in Gaza and the West Bank, and the EU states that oppose Turkey?s entry already know that Britain is not on their side. And Pakistanis are very aware that the country?s ambivalence towards terrorist and insurgent groups is a sore point for the West: on her first visit to Pakistan as secretary of state in October 2009, Hillary Clinton claimed that elements in the Pakistani government knew the whereabouts of senior Al-Qaeda figures and could capture or kill them ?if they really wanted to?.
The timing of Cameron?s messages is the key to understanding his intentions. He told Americans that Britain has been a junior partner for 70 years at a time when popular rage against British
Petroleum had begun to threaten the country?s image; he repeated comments he made in Britain about Gaza for his Turkish audience at a time when Turkey has begun to turn towards its eastern neighbours and away from Israel; and he alleged Pakistan?s ties to terror at a time when Indian politicians have begun to express disquiet at his overt signalling of a timeline for a British withdrawal from Afghanistan. He seems to have succeeded in flattering all three audiences by saying what they most wanted to hear.
At the same time, Cameron spoke out at a time when Britain is holding out the prospect of significant rewards for Israel and Pakistan. While Britain has been pressurising Israel to conduct a fair and swift inquiry into the Gaza flotilla attacks?and most probably also to participate in the UN?s own inquiry?it has also signalled a willingness to reconsider the operation of ?universal jurisdiction? laws, which have been used to issue arrest warrants against visiting Israeli officials. His comments on Pakistan come on the heels of a major increase in the UK?s aid to the country?and at a time when Britain can hold out the prospect of ensuring that some former Taliban gets a seat at the negotiating table in the run-up to the NATO withdrawal.
Of course, in the short-term words are unlikely to change Israeli or Pakistani behaviour, no matter how plainly they are spoken. In fact, they may end up reinforcing current beliefs and behaviour. Just days after Cameron?s Istanbul speech, Shimon Peres hit the headlines for his claim in an interview carried out before the speech that the British establishment is anti-Israel and pro-Arab. Cameron?s words will likely confirm many Israelis? belief that Britain has it in for them.
Pakistanis too have a long-standing suspicion of Britain, bolstered by much of the populace?s tendency to view events through the prisms of multiple conspiracy theories. It may well be true that intelligence cooperation between the two countries will suffer a blow over the short term?but the ISI has anyway been a difficult and occasionally reluctant partner to Britain. Even senior American officials have admitted on the record that there is a great deal that they do not know about the agency. Whatever the case, the relationship between the ISI and British intelligence agencies will not in the end be sustained or repaired by Prime Ministers or Presidents: it will rise or fall on the strength of the ties created by station chiefs, service heads and?perhaps most importantly?strategic information swaps.
More interesting?and more revealing?was the comment by an unnamed senior Pakistani source reported by Britain?s Guardian: ?if we are not supported, things will get worse?. This brings to mind the striking briefing given to the US deputy secretary of state Strobe Talbott as he flew into Islamabad for talks after the nuclear tests of 1998. The Pakistanis, he was told, negotiate like a robber who walks up to you on the street, puts a gun to his own head and demands your wallet: if you don?t do what they say, there will be horrible consequences for Pakistan. David Cameron may well find that his words come back to him in the form of a Pakistani ?stick-up? at Chequers.
Plain speaking can be very valuable?but not if it costs you your wallet.
The author is a researcher in the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Cambridge
