KALABAGH Dam: symbol of confusion or badge of patriotism? The subject provokes extremes of hype, those in favour saying Pakistan’s future depends on it while those opposed saying ‘only over our dead bodies’.

I have yet to come across a clear exposition of its pros and cons, in terms comprehensible to a layman. Much doom-laden rhetoric, very little light, the nation’s understanding on this subject not greatly advanced through the ensuing fog of confusion.

And Gen Musharraf doesn’t help matters when he weighs into the controversy and says big dams must be built, for good measure adding that he has the interests of Sindh, his adopted province, at heart and that he is a man of his word.

A politician laying claim, in season and out, to the mantle of truthfulness invites a dose of healthy scepticism, especially someone in Gen Musharraf’s position who said a year ago that he would take off his army uniform but who on second thoughts decided to keep it on. This truth thing, about being a man of one’s word, has thus worn thin. Best if it were now discarded.

I expect friend Mushahid Hussain, the Sarkari League’s secretary-general, to step forward and fill the breach. Inventor of some nice lines when he was information minister in Nawaz Sharif’s government — playing on the front foot (whatever’s happened to that?) and Nawaz Sharif being the first wholly made-in-Pakistan prime minister (whatever that means) — he has yet to come up with something equally striking about this government.

Who can argue against water reservoirs? We need them for irrigation and power. Punjab and the establishment — often one and the same thing — are passionate advocates of this point of view, indeed nearly to the point of frothing at the mouth when the subject of Kalabagh crops up. Sindh and the Frontier have a different tale to tell, fearing that while all the advantages of Kalabagh will accrue largely to Punjab, the cost of the project, in terms of damage done, will be borne by them.

While there is a great deal of clenched-teeth patriotism deployed in support of the Kalabagh dam, there has been, to my mind, no convincing rebuttal of the fears expressed by concerned people in Sindh and the Frontier.

Sindh fears that a mega-dam across the Indus at Kalabagh will mean less water flowing downstream into the Indus Delta. With less fresh water available, it will be all that easier for the sea to gradually come inland and eat away at fertile land by turning it saline. Furthermore, the shriveling of the delta will affect the mangrove swamps which are the first line of defence against the ravages of the tides and the ocean.

Already, Sindhis complain, the Indus is not what it used to be and thousands of acres of once-fertile land in the coastal districts have been damaged by salt-water. Another dam at Kalabagh, critics contend, will aggravate this trend.

Defining the battle lines on this issue are two diametrically opposed views about river water flowing into the sea. Big-dam enthusiasts say this is water wasted. Traditionalists say water flowing down the Indus, and eventually into the sea, sustains a way of life and a system of agriculture that have existed for centuries.

The Frontier fears two things: a broad swathe of fertile land submerged under the waters of the lake formed by the Kalabagh Dam and water tables rising to dangerous levels in the fertile districts of Mardan, Charsada, etc. Moreover, thousands of people — the exact number not known — are set to be displaced by the dam.

The truism is now well-established: big dams bring benefits but they also have painful side-effects and to say that they do not is to be downright dishonest. What makes the arguments of the dam-enthusiasts suspect is precisely this: while they go on and on about the benefits of the Kalabagh Dam, they are less forthcoming, to the point of being completely reticent, about the negative effects of this project.

The country could thus do with an honest and open debate, one shedding more light than confusion. What we have instead is a division along black-and-white lines, all-good on one side, and all-bad on another. And between these opposing points of view there is no meeting-point whatsoever.

That is why it is extremely unlikely that Gen Musharraf would have made too many converts during his recent attempts at big-dam populism in the interior of Sindh. Even the official TV cameras present to capture the scenes for posterity seemed unable to pick up any sparks of genuine enthusiasm amongst his captive audiences when he warmed up to his Kalabagh theme. While he was pretty animated, his listeners weren’t trying too hard to look cheerful or enthusiastic.

If truth be told, there is a complete national division on this issue. As stated above, Punjab is for it, the smaller provinces dead against it. Indeed, the smaller provinces take the Kalabagh Dam to be the latest example of Punjabi chauvinism sought to be carried out at their expense. They seem to be in no mood to listen to any other arguments.

The deadlock is thus complete and exercises in military democracy, the general addressing Sindhi bused-in crowds in trademark commando uniform, are not going to break it. It’s easy to say we should forge a consensus. But how? Gen Musharraf is his own think-tank and politburo, the apparatus of civilian rule meant largely to endorse if not applaud decisions already taken. While this approach may be useful in breaking through a brick wall, it is not very conducive to building a national consensus.

General Zia skirted this issue because he did not want to put his hand into a hornet’s nest, especially when he had other things on his plate, like his involvement in Afghanistan. Musharraf seems serious about Kalabagh but when he too has other eggs to fry, and his domestic position is underpinned by nothing stronger or more enduring than the Q League and MQM-support, can he enter where others have feared to tread?

In effect, what the nation is being told is this: suspend your judgment and trust mine. Or trust the army’s. Is this good enough? GHQ’s record over the years hardly inspires confidence about its nation-building ambitions. This is one good resulting from a surfeit of military interventions: the awareness that the army should be doing its own thing rather than taking on tasks for which it is ill-equipped.

Any takers for the notion of GHQ as ultimate arbiter of the Kalabagh project? It is a fair bet to say, not many.

More serious than any water problem is the crisis of national morale facing Pakistan which comes from the feeling that the nation’s affairs are not being run the way they should, that national interests are ill-served by military dominance.

Just a few days ago India had a new army chief, Gen J. J. Singh, said to be a much-decorated veteran of many military engagements. If my calculations are correct, he would be the third if not the fourth Indian army chief to our one in the person of Gen Musharraf since he was appointed army chief in 1998.

Wouldn’t this have some influence on our two commands, India enjoying a change and an infusion of fresh thinking every three years while we sticking to the same medicine for years on end?

The ossification of national thought, the drying up of fresh streams of inspiration, is not the least of the consequences of military rule.