During the flag-lowering ceremony at Wagah border between Pakistan and India, everyone is a patriot. Background, race, socio-economic status, political affiliations, religious beliefs, all melt away in a tidal storm of frenzied patriotism and singular nationalism. Men, women, children from all walks of life congregate, yell nationalistic slogans, salute the star and crescent on the green and white flag, and just for a few minutes, all differences and tribulations seem distant and trivial.
On November 2, 2014, terrorists targeted this ceremony, detonating a bomb estimated to be in the 25 kilogram range, near some shops immediately outside the strict security cordon. Sixty people were killed, another one hundred injured. There is some ambiguity as to who carried out the attack, as outlawed groups in the country practically clambered over one another to claim responsibility. Jundullah, or “Soldiers of Allah”, a banned outfit associated with the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), was quick to lay claim. This was quickly refuted by Ehsanullah Ehsan, spokesperson for Jamaat-ul-Ahrar, a splinter group of the TTP, formed after political and operational differences arose with the TTP leadership. Irrespective of who carried out the bombing, the reason stated was the same. This attack was in retaliation for Operation Zarb-e-Azb, a military campaign started on June 15, 2014, to eliminate embedded militants and banned outfits from North Waziristan, and reestablish the writ of the army and the government.
The attack was an attempt to shock and awe
The attack at Wagah did not target security officials, it targeted civilians. Innocent women, men and children had congregated to enjoy an evening cheering for their country, applauding the colorful closing ceremony as soldiers stomped about with dramatic flair, and momentarily forgetting the plethora of problems that plague Pakistan today. The attack targeted this sense of pride, hitting a target that embodies national unity and cohesion. The attack was an attempt to shock and awe, shatter nationalism, and break the stream of patriotic zealotry that accompanies the ceremony.
In this regard, the attack was largely unsuccessful. Newspapers reported that a bigger crowd showed up the following day, apparently undeterred and unafraid. The crowd chanted slogans for Pakistan, and against terrorism, and for a few magical minutes, just as the ceremony erodes any differences among Pakistanis at the event, it also mitigated the otherwise palpable sense of loss and tragedy that had marred the proceedings just 24 hours earlier.
The implications of this attack, however, are troubling.
The Wagah bombing was the first large-scale attack on a civilian target since Operation Zarb-e-Azb began. Despite an early warning on November 1, 2014, the attack was carried out as planned. The strict security checks prevented the bomber from entering the crowded stands and cause a much bigger tragedy than the one that unfolded, but the sheer scale of the attacks implies a deeply-entrenched, well-organized, and well-funded network that operates unhindered, despite the operation.
Soldiers carry the coffin of army doctor Captain Shumaila Nadeem who died in the Wagah border terrorist attack
Some analysts also believe that these groups could well be funded by India, and that these hit and run tactics fit well within the paradigm of the Cold Start Doctrine. However, the sheer impunity with which this attack occurred can also be interpreted in three ways. First, that there was someone was complicit in the attack. This is largely the stuff of conspiracy theories and baseless. Second, that this is a clear indication of the ineptitude of Pakistan’s security apparatus. CCPO Lahore Captain Amin Waince stated that advanced warning of a pending attack had been forwarded earlier to the Rangers, who have the charge for securing the site. Third, it shows that despite stringent measures, it is incredibly difficult to stop a suicide bombing from taking place. Reality probably intersects through the latter two, but the third especially holds the most weight.
Pakistan currently excels at going into the enemy’s den, and conduct a thorough operation to eliminate embedded threats. But our ability to counter terrorism in civilian environments, and the state of preparedness in responding to urban warfare within national confines is severely limited. Unlike the military, the national anti-terrorism command and control structure is woeful at best, and non-existent at its worst. This lack of communication and coordination is compounded by the highly volatile nature of a suicide attack, and the fact that despite early warning, no security agency can ably respond to each and every single threat identified, or they would cease to function.
The biggest implication of this attack is that Pakistan must strengthen its counterterrorism policies and practices, build better communication infrastructure between security agencies, consolidate intelligence and improve threat assessment. Pakistan is at war with a deeply-embedded enemy within. Until we take steps to excise that cancer with surgical precision and coordination, we will continue to wake to the kind of horrors witnessed at Wagah in November.
The author is a journalist and a development professional, and holds a master’s degree in strategic communications from Ithaca College, NY, USA.
