Feroz Hassan Khan, Eating Grass: The Making of the Pakistani Bomb. 520 pp., $28.46.

The rivalry between India and Pakistan continues to be cause for serious concern. Since partition in 1947, the two countries have fought one another in three major wars and clashed in a number of more limited military engagements. Disputes over territory and a host of other issues persist. Earlier this year, skirmishes on the “line of control” in Kashmir reportedly left three Pakistani and two Indian soldiers dead. Political leaders in both New Delhi and Islamabad predictably responded with angry rhetoric. It is after all an election year in Pakistan—and campaigning is practically a year-round activity in India’s huge federal system.

Because both India and Pakistan are nuclear-armed states, the stakes of any armed conflict between the two countries are potentially enormous. Scholars disagree on the extent to which the very existence of nuclear weapons on the subcontinent may have lowered the prospects for all-out war during the past decade or so. Yet, even if nuclear weapons have had a deterrent effect, the potential for interstate violence nevertheless remains—and, with it, the ever-present possibility that some future crisis could escalate out of control regardless of what national leaders might actually intend. The consequences could be horrific not only for the region, but for the entire world.

Both India and Pakistan espouse a policy of “minimum deterrence”—though neither side has precisely defined what this actually means. Today, they each possess a stockpile of roughly one hundred nuclear weapons—with Pakistan having slightly more than its neighbor. While these are relatively modest numbers compared to those of the United States and Russia, the two countries are currently expanding their respective nuclear capabilities beyond their existing nuclear-capable fighter aircraft and medium-range land-based missiles. India is now conducting sea trials for its first indigenously produced nuclear-powered ballistic-missile submarine (the Arihant). Less than a year ago, it also tested a ballistic missile (the Agni V) capable of reaching Beijing. For its part, Pakistan is said to be developing tactical nuclear warheads to mount atop a new, sixty kilometer-range mobile missile, the Nasr. Both sides are also reportedly taking steps to expand their capabilities to produce fissile materials.

These new programs reflect differing assessments of the threat each country faces. China’s economic rise and growing ability to project military power beyond its borders loom large in India’s strategic calculations. While both China and India have a “no-first-use” policy regarding nuclear weapons, Indian strategists have for years cited China’s nuclear capability as the principal rationale for developing Indian nuclear weapons—though perhaps they would be as much a symbol of national power as a deterrent force. Pakistan, on the other hand, seems most concerned about mitigating the imbalance in conventional military power created by India’s advantages in manpower and resources.

The Relevance of History

But weapons-development programs are not just a function of perceived threats. The momentum of past decisions also plays a role. This has certainly been the case in the United States. Choices made a half-century ago concerning the size and nature of the American nuclear forces, as well the complex of nuclear-weapon laboratories and production plants, continue to affect and constrain U.S. nuclear-weapons policy today. The same no doubt holds true for India and Pakistan. Their separate nuclear legacies will influence the course of the arms competition between them, as well as the prospects for confidence-building measures that could help avert a nuclear confrontation.

For this reason, an understanding of South Asia’s nuclear past is essential to assessing its nuclear future. The history of India’s nuclear-weapons program has been well documented. Though first published over a decade ago, George Perkovich’s India's Nuclear Bomb, remains essential reading for its comprehensive and compelling account of India’s often ambivalent pursuit of nuclear weapons. More recent works, especially retired Vice Admiral Verghese Koithara’s Managing India’s Nuclear Forces, provide informed and insightful updates on the current status of India’s nuclear forces. Until recently, however, one would have been hard pressed to find a full account of Pakistan’s nuclear-weapons program between the covers of a single book. While several studies have dealt with specific aspects of the story, such as A. Q. Khan’s notorious nuclear-proliferation network, or provided details on current policies and capabilities, a single, comprehensive history had yet to be written.

Fortunately, Feroz Hassan Khan’s Eating Grass: The Making of the Pakistani Bomb fills this gap in the literature. In this important and impressive new work, Khan traces the development of Pakistan’s nuclear-weapons program from partition to the present, examining, in his own words, “how and why Pakistan managed to overcome the wide array of obstacles that stood between it and nuclear weapons.”

Khan, a lecturer at the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, confesses that chronicling Pakistan’s nuclear history was no easy task. Aside from the highly classified nature of many aspects of the program, the author also had to contend with the conflicting narratives offered by rival personalities, laboratories and institutions. Fortunately, Khan succeeds admirably in sifting through published accounts and weaving in details and anecdotes from his numerous interviews with key participants. Though he personally denies that the book is an “insider account,” his background as a former brigadier in the Pakistani army and a former director in the Strategic Plans Division of the Joint Services Headquarters—which essentially controls Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal—obviously served him well in assembling the pieces of the puzzle into an intelligible whole, as well as a highly readable narrative.

From Reluctance to Resolve

The book takes its title from a 1965 quote attributed to then foreign minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto that if India developed an atomic bomb, then Pakistan would follow suit “even if we have to feed on grass and leaves…” But as Feroz Khan points out, not everyone in Pakistan initially shared Bhutto’s fervor. Rather, for most of the 1950s and 1960s, a period dominated by the leadership of President Ayub Khan, Pakistan’s approach was decidedly cautious.

Fearing the potential political and economic repercussions of overtly pursuing a nuclear weapons program, the Pakistani government and nuclear establishment concentrated instead on training a cadre of scientist and engineers and on developing the capability to indigenously build power plants. The Eisenhower administration’s “Atoms for Peace” program, including the opportunity for Pakistanis to study in American universities, played a crucial role in this regard. While such efforts could be considered necessary precursors to an active nuclear weapons program, that apparently was not Pakistan’s principal objective at the time. As Feroz Khan puts it, “… Ayub never explicitly rejected the bomb option. He simply decided not to decide.”

The catalyst for changing course was the shattering defeat Pakistan suffered at the hands of the Indian army in the 1971 war, during which Pakistan lost half of its territory (when East Pakistan broke away to become Bangladesh). Khan argues that a sense of “never again” and a corresponding inability (or unwillingness) to rely upon allies have been powerful motivators for some countries to “go nuclear,” most notably China and Israel. The same held true for Pakistan. It also made a difference that Bhutto came to power in the war’s immediate aftermath. Almost immediately, he abruptly changed the leadership of the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission (PAEC) and set it on a path to developing a nuclear weapon. After India conducted a “peaceful nuclear explosion” in 1974, there was essentially no turning back for Pakistan.

The Pakistani program, however, was beset by a host of challenges. Sectarian prejudices, particularly against members of the Ahmadi sect, meant that some highly capable nuclear scientists and engineers were deliberately excluded from important segments of the program. The loss of East Pakistan in 1971 also thinned the ranks of trained and experienced specialists. Beginning in the mid-1960s, the United States and other nations became increasingly concerned with the potential danger of nuclear proliferation and began to progressively restrict the flow of enabling technologies to would-be proliferators. Negotiations for the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty were completed in 1968.

Thus, by the time Bhutto launched a nuclear-weapon program in earnest, Pakistan was forced, in Feroz Khan’s words, to “tap into any and every source that would help Pakistan complete its fuel cycle. Where rules were lax, critical supplies were procured from the West, and when nonproliferation barriers increased, those supplies were found by other, less explicit means.” Chinese assistance with materials and designs at various stages also played a pivotal role. The author, however, rejects the notion that Pakistan’s ultimate success was simply the result of a “stolen program.” He argues instead that indigenous intellectual capital and making do with existing technologies—which he characterizes with the Punjabi term joogaardh—were indispensable elements of Pakistan’s overall effort.

Perhaps one of the more fascinating aspects of Eating Grass is its description of the intense institutional rivalries that plagued the Pakistani program. The author calls this chapter of the story the “clash of the Khans,” involving Munir Ahmad Khan, chairman of the PAEC from 1972 to 1991, and the now infamous A.Q. Khan, director of the Engineering (later renamed Khan) Research Laboratory (KRL) from 1976 to 2001. Intense personal jealousies led to bickering and constant maneuvering for political favor. The two organizations also differed on substantive technical issues, including the best path to developing a weapon (reprocessing plutonium versus enriching uranium) and the best approach to developing ballistic missiles (solid-fuel versus liquid-fuel).

In some respects, the competition may have helped provide the impetus needed to overcome numerous obstacles. But while the KRL played a crucial role in providing the enriched uranium the program used in its weapon design, the PAEC came out ahead in the end. When Pakistan ultimately decided to test nuclear weapons in May 1998—a decision the author asserts was forced by India’s nuclear weapons tests just days before—the Pakistani army assigned PAEC the lead, while the KRL team played only a supporting role.

The 1998 tests were by no means the end of the story. Pakistan still faced the challenge of transforming a demonstrated capability into an operational deterrent. Feroz Khan provides a detailed account of this process, drawing upon his firsthand knowledge as an original member of the Strategic Plans Division (SPD). On several occasions, the author directly refers to the role he and his erstwhile colleagues played, thus giving rise to some concerns about objectivity. On the other hand, Khan is able to supply detail and nuance that may not otherwise be clear from the available record. He concludes that the establishment and growth of the SPD professionalized Pakistan’s nuclear capability, by providing “systematic control over strategic organizations” and establishing measures to protect the security of Pakistan’s nuclear assets and guard against unauthorized use. He also credits the SPD’s increasing oversight of all aspects of the nuclear weapon program, including its finances, for ultimately unraveling A.Q. Khan’s proliferation network and his dismissal as KRL director in April 2001.

Prospects for the Future

In Feroz Khan’s view, in a country riven by sectarian and ethnic divisions, the need for nuclear weapons is the one thing upon which all Pakistanis agree. While most countries reacted with considerable dismay to the 1998 tests, the Pakistanis were jubilant. Their country had overcome long odds to build a nuclear weapon, despite starting with a weak technological base and facing strong countervailing pressure from the West. Moreover, Pakistanis felt they now had an answer to India’s larger conventional military capabilities.

But it is worth asking whether the national-security benefits gained from having a bomb were commensurate with the cost incurred in building it. As noted earlier, nuclear weapons may arguably have played a role in deterring another major war with neighboring India. Yet Pakistan’s nuclear weapons have not fundamentally redressed the conventional military imbalance between the two countries, which may grow even more lopsided as India continues its significant modernization effort. It is also not clear that Pakistan’s nuclear weapons will deter a major Indian military response to another terrorist incident, such as the 2008 attack in Mumbai, especially if that response is deliberately tailored not to cross any presumed Pakistani nuclear “red lines.” Finally, nuclear weapons do not deal with other pressing threats to Pakistan’s stability, which Feroz Khan describes as “domestic dissension and internal conflict” resulting from a failure “to bring harmony and nationalism to a religiously homogenous but ethnically and linguistically diverse people.”

Ironically, the sense of humiliation and isolation that gave rise to its nuclear-weapons program in the first place, may also still be a factor in Pakistan’s thinking, though in a different guise than before. Pakistan has clearly chafed at the U.S. civil nuclear agreement with India and its subsequent efforts to integrate India into international nuclear-control regimes—while not making similar overtures toward Pakistan. Aside from hardening Pakistan’s opposition to a multilateral ban on the production of fissile materials for nuclear weapons, it perpetuates Pakistan’s sense that it is isolated and forced to rely solely upon itself in protecting its national security.

Under these conditions, the prospects for Pakistan limiting or even scaling back its nuclear program must be considered remote, particularly as long as the potential for major conflict with India persists. Indeed, given current trends, the more likely near-term outcome is for a continued build up and increasing diversification of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal. Pakistan is widely reputed to have the fastest-growing nuclear-weapon stockpile in the world. Given reported plans to expand its plutonium production capacity with additional nuclear reactors at Khushab and completion of the Chashma reprocessing facility, Pakistan clearly looks to be in the nuclear-weapons business for the long haul.

Feroz Khan’s account clearly demonstrates that Pakistanis in the end did have to “eat grass” to build the bomb. The resources devoted to the nuclear-weapons program came at the expense of investment in education, healthcare, and infrastructure. The increasingly onerous sanctions imposed by the United States and other countries adversely impacted economic and military assistance, as well as overseas educational opportunities for Pakistani scientists. Pakistan’s current plans mean that the sacrifice of lost investment opportunities will continue. For unless and until its nuclear ambitions are tempered by a more circumscribed approach to “minimum deterrence” and actual progress in adopting both conventional and nuclear confidence-building measures with India, Pakistan’s nuclear-weapon program will consume precious resources for years to come.

Lt Gen Frank G. Klotz, USAF (Ret.) is a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations in Washington, DC, and the former commander of Air Force Global Strike Command.

Image: Wikimedia Commons/SyedNaqvi90. CC BY-SA 3.0.