BAITULLAH MEHSUD, one of Pakistan’s most-wanted militants, had a $5 million (€3.53 million) price-tag on his head.
The US had announced the reward for information leading to his capture or killing. But the Taliban chief’s death, confirmed yesterday, was worth far more to his Pakistani enemies who suspected his involvement in the assassination of former prime minister Benazir Bhutto and a devastating attack on Islamabad’s Marriott hotel last year.
The power and reach of Mehsud’s militant operation was fearsome. He stood head and shoulders above other militants in Pakistan’s estimation because of the responsibilities he was entrusted with by al-Qaeda, the Islamist terror group, and his ability to strike well beyond the country’s lawless border areas.
One experienced Pakistani intelligence official describes how, in the aftermath of Bhutto’s assassination two years ago, he learnt of Mehsud’s ability to strike anywhere in Pakistan through a carefully crafted terror network.
Yesterday, the big question facing Pakistan’s intelligence community was whether that network would continue to function as confirmation came in of Mehsud’s death in a US or Pakistani missile strike on Wednesday.
Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), or the Taliban movement of Pakistan, has suffered a serious setback with the loss of its leader. Without Mehsud’s ability to assemble and lead a volunteer force of between 10,000 and 20,000 militants, the TTP’s immediate challenge will be to hold its rank and file together.
“Without Baitullah Mehsud, the TTP’s capacity to have the same effect as before will be in question,” says Imtiaz Gul, a Pakistani journalist and author of a soon-to-be-published book on al-Qaeda’s presence on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan.
In keeping with the mystery surrounding Mehsud’s life, neither the Pakistani military nor government officials are likely to have seen his body. He was buried within hours of the attack, according to intelligence officials in the Waziristan region.
One of five brothers, Mehsud was born in a remote village in the early 1970s. The exact date of birth was never formally recorded. He did not complete formal school education, instead spending part of his teenage years in an Islamic madrassa school.
According to Pakistani intelligence officials, he often travelled across the border into Afghanistan, especially in the 1980s when the US-backed mujahideen was fighting occupying troops from the former Soviet Union. The experience taught Mehsud the use of guerrilla tactics. Years later, the lessons he learnt as a teenager were put to use when the Taliban lost power in Afghanistan after the September 11th, 2001, terror attacks on the US.
Already wedded to the cause of jihad, or holy war, Mehsud found in al-Qaeda a willing backer for his own cause of establishing a local resistance force against the Pakistan military’s deployment in the border region. Armed with resources from al-Qaeda, Mehsud created a small army, recruiting a hard core of warriors based in makeshift camps in Waziristan.
Meanwhile, he devoted time and resources to training suicide bombers to target locations across Pakistan. This strategy transformed his image in Pakistan from regional warlord to public enemy number one.
He held sway in Waziristan by targeting prominent tribal leaders. He also appeared to dodge US attention by training his attacks on Pakistan rather than US and Nato forces in Afghanistan.
Ultimately, he overreached. His targeting of high-profile figures and Pakistan’s heartland earned him enemies powerful enough to find his hideout and destroy him.
Analysts are doubtful Mehsud’s death will halt the kind of deadly attacks for which he was largely blamed. His death is widely assumed to be a milestone, says Jan Zalewski, an analyst at IHS Global Insight, but “it is not at all clear to what extent the death of Mehsud . . . will actually serve to reduce the incidence of extremism in Pakistan”. – (Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2009)