Taha Gaya on Capitol Hil this month: the Pakistani-American lobbyist is keenly aware that he is one of a few lonely advocates of an unpopular cause in Washington. (Photo Andrew Council for The National)
As the Obama administration makes Pakistan its top foreign policy priority, some Pakistani-Americans are attempting to emulate their Indian counterparts by wielding influence in Washington. Miranda Kennedy meets their young leader.
In
a personable interview with the Pakistani newspaper Dawn
a few weeks ago, Barack Obama revealed that he
reads Urdu poetry and cooks Pakistani dishes like dal
and keema. It was an attempt to charm one of the world’s
most persistently anti-American countries, and it may
or may not have succeeded, but it certainly pleased
one Pakistani-American: Taha Gaya, a 27-year-old lobbyist,
who takes credit for initiating the interview. Gaya
runs a tiny Washington advocacy organisation called
the Pakistani-American Leadership Center (PAL-C), and
he made it known to various officials that the community
was disappointed Obama had not yet talked to a Pakistani
outfit; soon after, the administration reached out
to Dawn. Gaya is still crowing about the results: “I
had a field day with it,” he says. “I teased my friends
that you can’t even cook keema, and the American president
can – what are you doing with your life?”
Gaya,
a devout Muslim with a beard and spiky black hair, divides
his
days between meetings with Congressional staff and
Pakistani-American groups. In a town defined
by protocol and prestige, Gaya takes the Metro rather than taxis, and carries
his papers in a bike messenger bag, which makes him look more like a college
kid than a powerful K Street lobbyist, even when he’s wearing a suit and tie.
But despite his youthful enthusiasm, he now has the ear of some of the most
senior figures in the foreign policy establishment.
Obama
created a specific diplomatic posting to deal with the region
on his second
day in office, naming Richard Holbrooke the special representative for Afghanistan
and Pakistan. But Pakistan’s representation in the capital remains minimal – and
Gaya’s own inexperience is emblematic of Pakistan’s overall lack of savvy
in Washington.
In
the past, Islamabad has spent serious resources on lobbying
in America – it
even for a time retained the infamous Jack Abramoff – but now, it lacks the
high-profile official representation that is de rigueur for even the smallest
nations. India
spends more than $100,000 a month to retain two of Washington’s most prominent
lobbying firms – BGR and Patton Boggs – but Pakistan is primarily represented
in Washington by Mark Siegel, a long-time friend of the late Benazir Bhutto,
even though he works at a firm better known for litigation than for lobbying,
and rarely has dealings with the administration. Perhaps, as one US official
suggested, “Pakistan has decided it is not a good use of its resources to
spend lots of money on a lobbyist to push the US government, because it knows
the
US needs Pakistan now.”
In
the meantime, Pakistani-American organisations have languished. “The
State Department didn’t know anything about Pakistani-American
groups until recently,” says
Shamila Chaudhary, a senior adviser to Holbrooke. Chaudhary, who is herself
Pakistani-American, says it is hard for Washington to take community-funded
groups seriously. Even
though they are mostly non-partisan, non-religious and unaffiliated,
they also tend to be fractured, disorganised and ineffectual.
She says the administration
is determined to change that, which explains why Holbrooke’s office has
been so receptive to Gaya’s suggestions. Gaya, who refers to Holbrooke
as “the
man” in
joking deference to his importance, is the only paid representative of
the Pakistani-American community in Washington, which is buzzing with
politically
active, well-connected
lobbyists of Indian descent. But he is benefiting from the administration’s
decision to reach out to Muslims in the US – as well as abroad – in the
wake of Obama’s
recent speech in Cairo.
This
spring, with the Taliban gaining ground in Pakistan, Obama
laid out a new “Af-Pak” strategy
in a high-profile speech, creating a separate problem with India, by
stoking fears that the United States was shifting its emphasis toward
Pakistan. India
was so worried, in fact, that it impelled Secretary of State Hillary
Clinton’s
five-day trip to the country, which came to a close earlier this week.
The visit was meant to demonstrate the American dedication to India – more
specifically, to “an unhyphenated India”, an awkward piece of jargon
used to reinforce the idea that India is a completely separate entity
from Pakistan.
India
and the United States have a legacy of distrust dating from
the Cold War, when India was one of the founding members
of the Non-Aligned Movement,
which many Americans regarded as a sign of pro-Soviet inclinations.
In the same
era, the United States cultivated Pakistan as a front-line ally against
the Soviets,
culminating in the fateful transfer of billions of dollars in arms
to the Afghan mujahideen by way of Islamabad. The relationship
was rocky
throughout
the 1990s,
but after the September 11 attacks Pakistan acceded to American demands
for co-operation; in 2004, the US designated Pakistan a major non-Nato
ally,
much to India’s dismay.
US-India
relations were also slow to warm, despite what both countries
referred to as a natural allegiance between “the
world’s oldest and largest democracies”.
In recent years, India has been eager to depict its own struggles
against Islamist militants as part of the US-led “war on terror”.
But it is India’s
growing economic might that has done the most to encourage a close
relationship with
the United
States. The politically savvy Indian-American community – the most
affluent and highly educated immigrant group in the country – has
pushed US-India relations to new heights, working together with
official lobbyists to
influence policy
and legislation in Congress, from limiting US aid to Pakistan to
preventing restrictions on greenhouse gas emissions.
In
its lobbying efforts, India has unashamedly taken inspiration
from the powerful
American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC). Gaya says even
Pakistani-Americans consider AIPAC “the gold standard”. “They talk
about the Jewish lobby as though it is the most powerful institution
in the world,” he says.
The India lobby ranks a close second: Gaya can reel off a litany
of victories that
he attributes
to
Indian-American efforts, none greater than last year’s US-India
nuclear deal. High-profile Indian-American political donors pushed
hard for
the bill’s
passage, which ended a three decade-long moratorium on nuclear
trade with India.
In
New Delhi this week, Secretary Clinton announced agreements
intended to foster sales of advanced weapons and nuclear
power reactors to India.
Clinton presents this strategic relationship – which the US
shares with only about a half-dozen other countries – as evidence
that ties with India have been “upgraded” to
what she calls “US-India 3.0”. To buttress that claim – a rather
corny reference to India’s prowess in information technology – Clinton
invited India’s prime
minister, Manmohan Singh, to meet Obama in November, in what
will be this administration’s
first state visit by a foreign leader.
When
the Obama administration made it clear it wanted to tackle
Pakistan, Indian officials
groused that it would undermine their status as an equal
partner. They were horrified by rumours that Richard Holbrooke’s
State Department portfolio would include India as well as
Pakistan and Afghanistan. That
sounded like
a throwback to the bad old hyphenated days, and awakened
fears that Holbrooke would
try to force action on Kashmir. Furious lobbying ensured
that Holbrooke stayed out of India; more recently, Indian
officials
insisted that
Clinton’s
visit not include stops in Pakistan or Afghanistan; she stopped
off in Thailand
instead.
“It’s a basic fact of India-Pakistan relations that
they always want to know if the US loves them more than the
other,” says Teresita Schaffer,
the director of the South Asia Program at the Center for
Strategic and International
Studies.
But, she says, there really is no contest: the United States
is serious about a partnership with India; its interest in
Pakistan,
by contrast,
is driven
by fear.
“Pakistani-Americans
may be trying to get more politically involved,” Schaffer
says, sceptically, “but frankly, they don’t have as good
a story to tell.”
Chaudhary,
the Holbrooke adviser, has met with several Pakistani-American
groups, including
PAL-C, and she points out that they’ve had some
successes, such as setting up a Congressional Pakistan
Caucus in 2004.
But Chaudhary says
the
community desperately needs to unify its goals, which
is why the State Department has been
supportive of a new diaspora group called the American
Pakistan Foundation. It does not aim to be a lobbying
organisation,
but Chaudhary hopes
it will help
draw the community together and identify a young dynamic
leader.
It
is this leadership role that Gaya now hopes to fill. Born
in California’s
Bay area, he was raised in a peripatetic family that
established strong ties to the local Pakistani-American community wherever
they lived.
He went to
college and law school in San Diego, and passed the California
bar before moving
to
Washington. When he decided to take a job on Congress’s
judiciary committee, he placed himself in a small minority
of Pakistani-Americans
with experience
in Washington. Gaya
took the position with PAL-C mostly because the board
of directors convinced him they needed his services.
He had some
savvy about
the US political
system – at
least, he had more than the first-generation Pakistanis
who hired him – although
he knew very little about the country where his parents
were born. He admits that when he was hired, two years
ago, he wouldn’t
have been able to identify Asif Ali Zardari, now Pakistan’s
president.
Parvaiz
Lodhie, a Los Angeles engineer who cofounded PAL-C in 2004,
wasn’t
concerned about such details. He’d decided he needed someone like Gaya – a
Pakistani who is more American than Pakistani – if
he was to gain a sympathetic ear on Capitol Hill.
Gaya is
a practicing
Muslim
who prays on Friday
afternoons
at
the Capitol
with young Hill staffers, but he can also navigate
the maze of Congressional subcommittees and organise
events
on Facebook.
Like
other first-generation Pakistani-Americans, Lodhie says that
when he moved to the states, “we
all just tried to make it on our own. For 42
years, I’ve
been living the American dream and ignoring Pakistan.” Now
he’s
unequivocal about the consequences of that choice: “Our
community has failed.” Like
other financially successful Pakistanis, Lodhie
occasionally held political fundraisers:
he’d invite
a congressman to his home, and his Pakistani-American
friends would raise tens of thousands of dollars.
Afterwards, he
had a photo
of himself posing
with
the politician, but he never followed up to ask
for action on issues that affect Muslims in America
or
his relatives
back in Pakistan.
It was only
after Lodhie
witnessed discrimination against Pakistani-Americans
after September 11 that he decided he wanted
to get political.
PAL-C’s most obvious priority
is to mobilise Pakistani-Americans like Lodhie,
who have previously limited their engagement
to what Gaya calls “fakey
photo-op assets”. Gaya asks them to go back to
the politicians and call in their chits. He also
works
to develop friendly
relationships with
key politicians like
the former presidential candidate John Kerry,
who chairs the Senate’s
foreign affairs committee, and his counterpart
in the House, Howard Berman.
This
spring, President Obama urged Congress to approve an unprecedented
$1.5 billion in annual aid to Pakistan
for the
next five years. When
the funding bills were before the House and
Senate, Gaya and other Pakistani-Americans
were on
the Hill every day. They lobbied to eliminate
elements they saw as problematic,
such as a clause that made the aid conditional
on Pakistan’s
co-operation in dismantling nuclear material
supply networks. Shamila Chaudhary
says this confused
some congressmen, though: she heard from
some House and Senate staffers that they
couldn’t
work out whether the Pakistanis who came
to visit them actually
wanted
the
bills to pass.
Perhaps
because of their confused messaging on the Hill, the Pakistani-American
lobby did not manage to cleanse the aid
package
of everything they found objectionable.
But on balance,
Gaya considers
the bill a
major victory.
Nevertheless, he is
keenly aware that he is one of a few lonely
advocates of an unpopular cause in Washington;
that he’s
in a different league from the influential
Indian colleagues
he occasionally
crosses
paths with. Reflecting
on India’s
worry that it is getting short shrift from
the Obama administration, Gaya can only
smile wanly. “There’s
a reason Pakistan has been getting a lot
of attention,” he
says. “If
anything, India should feel grateful that
the US hasn’t
been focused on it for the same reason
that it’s
been focused on Pakistan.”
Miranda
Kennedy’s
book about women and globalisation in
India will be published worldwide next year. |