Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Pakistan Is Rapidly Adding Nuclear Arms, U.S. Says


WASHINGTON – Members of Congress have been told in confidential briefings that Pakistan is rapidly adding to its nuclear arsenal even while racked by insurgency, raising questions on Capitol Hill about whether billions of dollars in proposed military aid might be diverted to Pakistan’s nuclear program.

Adm. Mike Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, confirmed the assessment of the expanded arsenal in a one-word answer to a question on Thursday in the midst of lengthy Senate testimony. Sitting beside Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates, he was asked whether he had seen evidence of an increase in the size of the Pakistani nuclear arsenal.

“Yes,” he said quickly, adding nothing, clearly cognizant of Pakistan’s sensitivity to any discussion about the country’s nuclear strategy or security.

Inside the Obama administration, some officials say, Pakistan’s drive to spend heavily on new nuclear arms has been a source of growing concern, because the country is producing more nuclear material at a time when Washington is increasingly focused on trying to assure the security of an arsenal of 80 to 100 weapons so that they will never fall into the hands of Islamic insurgents.

The administration’s effort is complicated by the fact that Pakistan is producing an unknown amount of new bomb-grade uranium and, once a series of new reactors is completed, bomb-grade plutonium for a new generation of weapons. President Obama has called for passage of a treaty that would stop all nations from producing more fissile material – the hardest part of making a nuclear weapon – but so far has said nothing in public about Pakistan’s activities.

Bruce Riedel, the Brookings Institution scholar who served as the co-author of Mr. Obama’s review of Afghanistan-Pakistan strategy, reflected the administration’s concern in a recent interview, saying that Pakistan “has more terrorists per square mile than anyplace else on earth, and it has a nuclear weapons program that is growing faster than anyplace else on earth.”

Obama administration officials said that they had communicated to Congress that their intent was to assure that military aid to Pakistan was directed toward counterterrorism and not diverted. But Admiral Mullen’s public confirmation that the arsenal is increasing – a view widely held in both classified and unclassified analyses – seems certain to aggravate Congress’s discomfort.

Whether that discomfort might result in a delay or reduction in aid to Pakistan is still unclear.

The Congressional briefings have taken place in recent weeks as Pakistan has descended into further chaos and as Congress has considered proposals to spend $3 billion over the next five years to train and equip Pakistan’s military for counterinsurgency warfare. That aid would come on top of $7.5 billion in civilian assistance.

None of the proposed military assistance is directed at the nuclear program. So far, America’s aid to Pakistan’s nuclear infrastructure has been limited to a $100 million classified program to help Pakistan secure its weapons and materials from seizure by Al Qaeda, the Taliban or “insiders” with insurgent loyalties.

But the billions in new proposed American aid, officials acknowledge, could free other money for Pakistan’s nuclear infrastructure, at a time when Pakistani officials have expressed concern that their nuclear program is facing a budget crunch for the first time, worsened by the global economic downturn. The program employs tens of thousands of Pakistanis, including about 2,000 believed to possess “critical knowledge” about how to produce a weapon.

The dimensions of the Pakistani buildup are not fully understood. “We see them scaling up their centrifuge facilities,” said David Albright, the president of the Institute for Science and International Security, which has been monitoring Pakistan’s continued efforts to buy materials on the black market, and analyzing satellite photographs of two new plutonium reactors less than 100 miles from where Pakistani forces are currently fighting the Taliban.

“The Bush administration turned a blind eye to how this is being ramped up,” he said. “And of course, with enough pressure, all this could be preventable.”

As a matter of diplomacy, however, the buildup presents Mr. Obama with a potential conflict between two national security priorities, some aides concede. One is to win passage of a global agreement to stop the production of fissile material – the uranium or plutonium used to produce weapons. Pakistan has never agreed to any limits and is one of three countries, along with India and Israel, that never signed the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty.

Yet the other imperative is a huge infusion of financial assistance into Afghanistan and Pakistan, money considered crucial to helping stabilize governments with tenuous holds on power in the face of terrorist and insurgent violence.

Senior members of Congress were already pressing for assurances from Pakistan that the American military assistance would be used to fight the insurgency, and not be siphoned off for more conventional military programs to counter Pakistan’s historic adversary, India. Official confirmation that Pakistan has accelerated expansion of its nuclear program only added to the consternation of those in Congress who were already voicing serious concern about the security of those warheads.

During a hearing of the Senate Armed Services Committee on Thursday, Senator Jim Webb, a Virginia Democrat, veered from the budget proposal under debate to ask Admiral Mullen about public reports “that Pakistan is, at the moment, increasing its nuclear program – that it may be actually adding on to weapons systems and warheads. Do you have any evidence of that?”

It was then that Admiral Mullen responded with his one-word confirmation. Mr. Webb said Pakistan’s decision was a matter of “enormous concern,” and he added, “Do we have any type of control factors that would be built in, in terms of where future American money would be going, as it addresses what I just asked about?”

Similar concerns about seeking guarantees that American military assistance to Pakistan would be focused on battling insurgents also were expressed by Senator Carl Levin of Michigan, the committee chairman.

“Unless Pakistan’s leaders commit, in deeds and words, their country’s armed forces and security personnel to eliminating the threat from militant extremists, and unless they make it clear that they are doing so, for the sake of their own future, then no amount of assistance will be effective,” Mr. Levin said.

A spokesman for the Pakistani government contacted Friday declined to comment on whether his nation was expanding its nuclear weapons program, but said the government was “maintaining the minimum, credible deterrence capability.” He warned against linking American financial assistance to Pakistan’s actions on its weapons program.

“Conditions or sanctions on this issue did not work in the past, and this will not send a positive message to the people of Pakistan,” said the official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because his country’s nuclear program is classified.
Source: The New York Times

Ethnic Groups in Myanmar Hope for Peace, but Gird for Fight


LAIZA, Myanmar – The Kachin tribesmen who inhabit the hills along Myanmar’s border with China have a reputation as stealthy jungle warriors, famous for repelling Japanese attacks in the Second World War with booby traps and instilling terror by slicing off ears to tally their kills.

Now, as they have many times in their war-scarred history, the Kachin are hoping for peace but are prepared for battle with Myanmar’s central government.

“Whether or not there will be war again, we have to be ready,” Maj. Zauja Nhkri, the head of an officer’s training school that is part of the Kachin Independence Army, which has around 4,000 men under arms.

“If our army is strong, we can maintain the peace.”

As Myanmar’s military government prepares to adopt a new and disputed Constitution next year, a fragile patchwork of cease-fire agreements between the central government and more than a dozen armed ethnic groups is fraying.

The new Constitution would nominally return the country to civilian rule after four and a half decades of military government and, in theory, could formally end the now dormant civil war that has plagued the country since it gained independence from Britain in 1948. But as a precondition for what they portray as a fresh start, Myanmar’s ruling generals are ordering the Kachin and other groups to disarm and disband their substantial armies.

So far, the answer is no.

“There is no good road map for the future of Burma,” said Gen. Gam Shawng Gunhtang, the chief of staff of the Kachin Independence Army, which has fought the government on and off since its founding in 1961. Myanmar used to be known as Burma.

The ethnic groups control large pockets of territory in the northern and eastern borderland areas, and, if they disarm, they risk losing control over their lucrative trade in timber, jade, gems and, in some cases, heroin and methamphetamines. They are loath to give up their hard-won autonomy to the Myanmar military, which is dominated by the Burman ethnic group they have long resented.

“We ethnic peoples are trying to form a federal union,” Gen. Gam Shawng Gunhtang said. “They don’t want to hear about it.”

The demands to disarm are “not acceptable,” he said.

The volatile and remote northern reaches of Myanmar are rarely reported on in the Western news media because of the difficulty accessing the armed groups. The visit by this reporter to Laiza was the first by a foreign newspaper correspondent in several years.

By the tumultuous standards of Myanmar’s six decades of independence, the country has been relatively peaceful over the past decade and a half, thanks to the cease-fire agreements.

Myanmar captured the world’s attention when the government quashed the uprising of Buddhist monks in September 2007 and when it refused to allow some international assistance after a deadly cyclone last May.

But those events only served to underline the firm grip that the generals have over the low-lying parts of the country, where the majority Burman population is concentrated.

It is a very different picture in the upland regions, where the government’s control has always been tenuous. A resumption of civil war in the north and east is by no means a foregone conclusion – the generals could back down from their demands to disarm, or the ethnic groups might relent and decide to fully adopt the new Constitution.

But if the conflicts re-ignite, which some analysts say is likely, it could resonate well beyond Myanmar’s borders, resulting in outflows of refugees into neighboring countries like Thailand and China and a resurgence of the heroin business, which in the past has thrived under the cover of war.

“I think you will hear a lot of gunfire next year,” said Aung Kyaw Zaw, a former soldier in the now defunct Burmese Communist Party who is in contact with leaders of the ethnic groups. “The Burmese government is unwilling to give autonomy.”

The largest borderland groups, drawn from ethnic groups like the Wa, Shan and Kokang, are united in their bitterness over their historical domination by the Burman.

During the Cold War, China, Thailand and the United States supplied arms and other assistance to some borderland groups. Now commercial interests, including many shady businesses, have replaced ideological ones.

The Kachin hills are home to the world’s most lucrative jade mines. The area inhabited by the Shan has the largest and best-quality rubies found anywhere. All the territory controlled by the ethnic groups has prized varieties of tropical hardwood.

And drug syndicates, many of them with ties to the ethnic groups, profit handsomely from the trafficking of both illegal and counterfeit drugs.

Adding to the complexity of the situation, Myanmar, by the nature of its location between India and China, is now the focus of a geopolitical contest for influence by the region’s big powers increasingly hungry for natural resources.

Chinese companies are building a series of hydroelectric dams on northern tributaries of the Irrawaddy River (despite Kachin objections) and have helped finance and build roads inside Myanmar, facilitating both the sale of Chinese electronics and clothing in Myanmar and the export of timber and other commodities into China.

China recently beat India in securing a 30-year concession on natural gas from Myanmar, and construction will reportedly start soon on twin pipelines crossing Myanmar from the Bay of Bengal and connecting to the southern Chinese city of Kunming.

In March, China and Myanmar signed a “cooperation agreement” on the oil and gas pipelines, but key details are vague.

The strategic objective for China is access to the Bay of Bengal, thus avoiding having to ship oil through the Strait of Malacca, a costly detour and a security threat if that choke point is ever blocked. But the project is seen by many as a risky venture.

“Burma is not a stable place when you get out into these remote areas that the pipeline is going to have to traverse,” said Priscilla A. Clapp, a former American diplomat who spent three years as the chief of the U.S. mission in Myanmar. “It’s going to have to go over mountains and through remote areas of the country that are barely controlled by the military. It could very easily be blown up, and then you’re out of luck.”

Gam Shawng Gunhtang, the Kachin general, is worried that the pipeline will marginalize the borderland ethnic groups and give the upper hand to Myanmar’s junta, also known as the State Peace and Development Council, or S.P.D.C.

“The S.P.D.C. is trying to convince the Chinese government that the borderland armed groups are not political groups – just insurgents or terrorists,” the general said. “The pipeline will be a tool and an opportunity for the S.P.D.C. to eliminate the armed groups.”

The Constitution, which Myanmar’s generals say was adopted by more than 90 percent of voters in a referendum last year and will take effect after elections next year, prescribes “genuine multi-party democracy” and recognizes what it calls “self-administered” areas. But ethnic leaders say this falls short of the autonomy they want.

They also point out that the document preserves a dominant role for the military, including the right of the commander in chief of the armed forces to appoint a quarter of the Parliament and to remove the president.

And because the Constitution mandates that only the national armed forces provide defense and security, the junta is demanding that all other groups disarm.

The most heavily armed group along the Chinese border is the United Wa State Army, which has about 20,000 soldiers and new armaments including field artillery and anti-tank missiles, according to Bertil Lintner, an expert on Myanmar’s ethnic groups and co-author of the book “Merchants of Madness,” which deals with the drug trade among ethnic groups.

Very few of the armed groups will accede to the government’s demands to disarm, Mr. Lintner believes.

“Some of the smaller groups might hand in their weapons, but they don’t matter anyway,” he said.

In Laiza, it is easy to see why the Kachin want to maintain their autonomy.

Residents escape many of the deprivations so common in other parts of Myanmar, one of the world’s poorest countries: Electricity from a nearby hydroelectric dam is reliable, cellphone service provided by Chinese communications towers across the border is cheap (obtaining a cellphone number inside Myanmar typically costs $2,000), and the local administration even stamps out its own vehicle license plates, skirting Myanmar’s highly restrictive car ownership policies.

In addition to its own army, the Kachin have a police force, schools, a teacher’s training college and their own customs agents, who monitor the border crossing with China.

Laiza is no Shangri-La – the town struggles with drug addiction and other social ills common to many border areas – but it feels more free than the military-controlled areas in Myanmar, where dissidents are repeatedly rounded up and sentenced to long jail terms.

“The S.P.D.C. has one last chance to win the hearts of the people,” said Thar Kyaw, a jade dealer now based in the southern Chinese city of Ruili. “But we are not very hopeful.”

Source: The New York Times

An assured Assad

By Roula Khalaf and Anna Fifield–
Not long ago, the Damascus regime of Bashar al-Assad was shunned as a dangerous pariah, a troublemaker that meddles in Iraq, provokes unrest in Lebanon and cheers at the Middle Eastern misfortunes of the west.

The Syrian president, who inherited his rule from his father in 2000, was ostracised even by Arab friends infuriated by his tightening alliance with Iran and by the repeated promises of co-operation that were never kept.

These days, however, it must feel like the “Bashar Spring” in Damascus. The 43-year-old Mr Assad is enjoying a rare run of fortunate events that are easing the international pressures and offering a chance at rehabilitation.

With a new US administration determined to turn the page on the policies of George W. Bush and transform past enemies into friends, Syria has emerged as a test case for American policy. If Washington can find a way of convincing Damascus to work with it rather than against it, the bigger goal of defusing other tensions in the region would gain a significant boost.

With its ties to militant groups across the region such as Hizbollah and Hamas, and its resulting ability to undermine western interests, a more co-operative Assad regime could facilitate policy towards Iran as well as the pursuit of Middle East peace.

Although it remains far from clear that the Assad regime will change its behaviour, Washington has already changed its tone. US officials now travel to Damascus for talks; they even show up at the national day celebrations of the Syrian embassy in Washington. European and Arab governments have also been warming to Mr Assad, hoping that engagement will prise him away from the clutches of Tehran.

Mr Assad’s luck has recently also been good on other fronts. An alliance of the Syrian exiled opposition that had grouped Islamists and a leading regime defector has broken up, further weakening a feeble dissident movement.

Most recently, four pro-Syrian former Lebanese generals jailed for the 2005 killing of Rafiq Hariri, a former prime minister of Lebanon and Syrian opponent, were released amid a lack of evidence. Though a United Nations investigation into an assassination that was widely blamed on Damascus continues, the release of the four men was a boon to Syria, which had denied involvement and had sought to bring an end to the probe.

“It’s a remarkable run for a guy who had his back against the wall,” remarks Jon Alterman of the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington.

Syrian officials are basking in self-confidence as a result. Imad Moustapha, the country’s ambassador in Washington, told the Middle East Institute this month that he had been “overjoyed” by Mr Obama’s election, describing the change in Washington’s attitude towards Syria as dramatic. “Now, instead of pointing fingers at us, they are telling us how can we work together to address this and that issue. The tone is friendly and respectful and the style is different,” he said. Syria, he added, was not changing. Instead, it was the US that had recognised its mistakes and was seeking to correct them.

“The Syrians now believe they are the centre of the Middle East,” quips Andrew Tabler, a political analyst who spent years in Syria. “They think nothing can be done without them.”

Yet Damascus should not rejoice yet. A better relationship with the west largely depends on how the Syrian ruler plays his hand. US officials fear that Syria might be overestimating the change of tone of the Obama administration and misreading its intentions. To stress that point, a day after a senior US envoy was in Damascus at the end of last week, the administration renewed its unilateral sanctions against Syria, citing the regime’s support for terrorism and weapons trade.

“We want to see a change in Syria’s outlook, away from being a spoiler and more towards being a constructive problem solver, at least willing to deal with some of the problems in the region,” says one US official. “It is not that we want them to cut off relations with Iran but to recognise that the west can offer things that Iran can’t – like economic prosperity and peace with Israel.”

A country of 20m people, with a weak economy and dwindling oil reserves, Syria has always  been a hardline state in the region, determined to punch above its weight. Under the late Hafez al-Assad, it was adept at manoeuvring diplomatically and shifting strategies when the international environment demanded it – most famously during the first Gulf war in 1990 when Syria joined the US-led alliance to free Kuwait.

This ability, however, appeared to have been lost when the younger Mr Assad took over the presidency on the death of his father. Tall and given to grandstanding – much to the annoyance of older Arab leaders – the trained eye-doctor was ill prepared to rule over the Baathist regime, concentrated in the hands of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Shia Islam dominant in the Latakia region on the Mediterranean, and underpinned by a web of competing and corrupt intelligence agencies. It was, after all, his brother Bassil who had been groomed to take over but was killed in a car accident.

Fearing that he would be next on the list of US targets for regime change following the 2003 fall of Baghdad, Mr Assad drew closer to Tehran, backed Iraqi insurgents and used Syria’s support for Lebanon’s Hizbollah and the Palestinian Hamas to undermine western interests in the region.

The cost has been high, and not always obvious. Mr Assad consolidated his power internally, sidelining the old guard and promoting trusted members of his family. He has kept a firm grip on society, repressing pro-democracy activists and human rights defenders.

Damascus also has taken blows: in 2007, Israel bombed a suspected nuclear site in the Syrian desert, which the US said had been built in collaboration with North Korea. A top military aide to Mr Assad was assassinated last August; and Imad Moughniye, Hizbollah’s military chief, was killed a year earlier by a bomb in Damascus. Both killings remain unexplained, with Syria never directly accusing Israel.

Economically too, Damascus has suffered. A trade association agreement under negotiation with the European Union has been frozen since 2005. The killing of Hariri turned large parts of Lebanon against Damascus, forcing it to withdraw its troops – the end of a nearly 30-year presence from which the military establishment had profited financially.

Despite the setbacks, Syria considers that it has been vindicated, with its diplomatic clout enhanced by the Bush administration’s failures in Iraq and the decline of American influence in the Middle East. Iran’s authority in the region has been boosted. In Lebanon, meanwhile, Syria’s allies, including Hizbollah, remain powerful and could win next month’s legislative elections. “The Syrians are convinced that by resisting the [last] US administration they survived, they won,” says a western diplomat in Damascus.

The self-satisfaction could lead to Syria holding out for US concessions but giving little in return. “In absolute terms, Assad is in a weak position, in the region and economically, but not in relative terms,” says Mr Alterman of the CSIS. Damascus, he argues, has no intention of changing its foreign policy, but even a modest correction could give it a different relationship with the US. America’s troop withdrawal from Iraq, scheduled to be completed in two years, could represent an opportunity if Syria is willing to crack down on insurgents who pass through its territory – a big US complaint. Arab officials who have dealt with the regime say engagement with Damascus has a better chance of success if the economic benefits are made clear.

While the US explores prospects of improved bilateral relations, it is also making clear that it would be willing to mediate in peace talks with Israel in order to secure Syria’s main demand – a return of the Golan Heights, occupied since 1967. George Mitchell, the US envoy for Middle East peace, recently added to his team an expert in Syrian-Israeli negotiations.

Quick progress is, however, expected by no one. A day before the US officials arrived in Damascus last week, Mr Assad hosted Mahmoud Ahmadi-Nejad, the Iranian president. “We have strategic ties…which…serve the stability and strength of this region,” Mr Assad insisted. “Our duty is to strengthen these kinds of ties.”

“I think that we will see a very gradual, cautious, sceptical approach on both sides,” says Peter Harling, a Damascus-based analyst for the International Crisis Group, a think-tank. Syrian officials, he argues, are fully aware that although Mr Obama’s election might have been revolutionary, his Middle East policy may not be.

The fate of US engagement, more­over, will be closely linked to that of Syrian-Israeli talks. The Israeli defence establishment sees the strategic benefit of peace with Syria but Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s new rightwing prime minister, appears to have little enthusiasm for reviving negotiations. Analysts predict that talks will eventually start, though they will prove hard to conclude with a peace deal.
Sami Moubayed, a Syrian political analyst, says that while confidence-building between Washington and Damascus is important, there will come a stage when concrete actions are required. “Unless the Golan Heights issue is given a high priority on Obama’s regional agenda, sooner or later we will be back to square one. There has to be something concrete related to the peace talks.”

One US official meanwhile outlines a bewildering list of conditions for the success of American engagement. “I think that in the next year, if Syria is in negotiations with Israel, if there is a stable government in Lebanon, if there are better relations between Syria and Iraq, if the Palestinians are working towards elections, the conditions for Syria to play a more positive regional role will be largely in place,” he says.

The Bashar Spring could prove enduring. But it does well to remember the fate of the so-called Damascus Spring, the flourishing of democratic debate that Mr Assad tolerated when he took over – but then suppressed.