In 2002, fisherman Nathu Bhai reportedly wrote these words to his family in Gujarat from Ward 11 of the Landhi jail in Karachi: “Kismet mein likha hua pardesh, vatan ko kya yaad karoon; yahan apna nahin hai koi, fariyaad kisko kaise karoon (This foreign land is my destiny, so why should I remember my homeland; but there is no one known to me here, so to whom can I appeal for mercy?)” The reported seizure of two fishing boats by Pakistan on Friday, though yet to be confirmed either by industry bodies, Gujarat or the Centre, has been cast as being Islamabad’s vengeance for the destruction of a boat by the Indian Coast Guard on New Year’s Eve. However, its just as likely to be part of a seasonal cycle that sees dozens, sometime hundreds of fishing workers from both countries end up in each others’ prisons — spending years, and sometimes their lives, in a foreign jail. How many fishermen end up in prison? No one knows exactly how many fishing workers are now in jails for crossing the International Maritime Boundary Line, or IMBL, that divides India from Pakistan. Indian government sources the numbers, as of December 31, is 475 Indians in Pakistani jails, and 130 Pakistanis in Indian jails. In December, as fishing season picked up, Pakistan arrested 58 fishermen and held 11 boats. Ahead of Pakistan PM Nawaz Sharif’s visit to India this summer, Pakistan released 151 fishermen and 57 boats. Fishing unions in both countries allege forces from the other side sometimes kidnap them from the wrong side of the maritime boundary, to make sure they have people to trade. Why do fishermen end up on the wrong side of the line? Basically, fishing boats go where the fish are. For centuries, fishermen from ports of what is now Gujarat headed into the Indus estuary in search of the best Pomfret and Red Snapper. The problem is that those waters are now in Pakistan. Local fishing organisations sometimes blame boundary-crossing on illiterate crews who don’t know how to read latitudes and longitudes, but that isn’t really true. Most captains are skilled in using Global Positioning Systems, a useful tool to reach the best fishing grounds. They also know that the odds of getting caught are low — and when the catch isn’t great, they hop the line to meet up their targets and earn their salaries. What does this have to do with smuggling and terror? Large smuggling cartels don’t actually handle the retail end of the business. Narcotics traffickers, bootleggers and other smugglers load their wares on to large boats, which then head to high seas — just out of the 200 nautical mile limits that national governments patrol to protect their Exclusive Economic Zones. Fishing crews pick up contraband from these mother ships and take it ashore. For the crews, it means income, and for the traffickers, an assurance that they won’t lose all their wares at once in case of interdiction by authorities. Trafficking of everything from heroin to liquor, diesel and even second-hand cars is common in Pakistan. For the most part, people who get caught are the small fish. India tightened up its border security after the 1993 bombings. New controls were put in place after the 26/11 Mumbai terror attack. Yet, there are still flows of contraband silver into port cities like Jamnagar. What can be done about it? For one, India and Pakistan need to demarcate their maritime boundary, which could then open up the way for agreements on fishing rights, and perhaps even joint counter-trafficking mechanisms. India and Pakistan haven’t formally demarcated their maritime boundary because of their dispute over Sir Creek, which dates back to the 19th century. India says the border should run from the middle of the 100-kilometre creek, while Pakistan wants it to run from the eastern bank. Each claim would give the country rights to massive gas and oil resources believed to lie under the sea bed.
