Hakimullah Mehsud was hardly Pakistan's great hope for peace

US drone strikes trouble Pakistan's politicians, but peace talks with the Taliban leader may well have come to nothing

Samira Shackle

Hakimullah Mehsud, leader of the Taliban in Pakistan, was killed in a US drone strike on Saturday. Photograph: Ishtiaq Mehsud/AP Hakimullah Mehsud, leader of the Pakistani Taliban, was responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent Pakistanis. Under his leadership, the Taliban targeted Pakistani soldiers and civilians, slaughtered Shia Muslims and almost derailed this year's general election by selectively targeting liberal parties. Yet the news of Mehsud's death in a US drone strike on Saturday has not been unanimously well received. The interior minister, Chaudhry Nisar Ali Khan, sounded as if he was in mourning when he said: "This is not just the killing of one person, it's the death of all peace efforts." Imran Khan, who heads the provincial government in the north-western province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, has reiterated a threat to block Nato vehicles from passing through his province unless drone strikes are discontinued. While journalists and others pointed out that Mehsud was terrorising the population of Pakistan, most politicians sounded ambivalent at best. This reaction is partly the result of immediate political concerns. The conservative government of Nawaz Sharif came to power in May on a platform of peace talks with the Taliban and action against drone strikes. A few weeks ago, Mehsud took the unusual step of giving an interview to the BBC in which he said that his organisation was open to talks. Politicians from both Sharif and Khan's parties are presenting Mehsud's death as a devastating blow to these efforts. Nisar and others have even suggested the US deliberately timed the strike to undermine dialogue. The Tehreek e Taliban Pakistan (TTP), which Mehsud had led since 2009, has tentatively said that talks may still go ahead, but it is likely that Mehsud's death will delay the process. Of course, the overblown rhetoric coming from politicians fails to acknowledge that talks with the Taliban were at an embryonic stage. Mehsud's outlandish conditions for dialogue included the imposition of a harsh version of Islamic law across the country. Peace talks with the TTP have taken place before, and have always ended in failure, so it perhaps an over-statement to imply that had Mehsud survived, peace in Pakistan would have prevailed. Drone strikes, however, remain politically difficult. The public is divided, but the prevailing mood – encouraged by politicians – is that their use is yet another US violation of Pakistan's sovereignty. As always in Pakistan, the real picture is complex (many people in the areas most affected by terrorism actually support drone attacks, despite civilian deaths), but anti-Americanism is also rife. Even if a common enemy has been killed, it is difficult to celebrate if it is the result of Americans intruding on Pakistani soil. In Pakistan, it can be difficult to have any political discussion without the blame eventually being pinned on America. This paranoia is the result of years of perceived – and often real – double-crossing by the Americans. The confused reaction that results is reflected in how people who deplore terrorism and hate the TTP speak admiringly of the Afghan Taliban because they are standing up to American invaders. Pakistan has taken a heavy toll in the war on terror. At least 35,000 people have died in terrorist violence since 2001, a figure that dwarfs the combined death toll in all western countries. Ultimately, the death of a single Taliban leader will make little difference to the group's campaign of terror as the power structures are decentralised enough to absorb such losses. Which begs the question: what hope is there for peace? Clearly, the leaders of Pakistan and the US have yet to find any credible options.