2020: A Year of Cartographic Warfare in South Asia

Rohan Rajesh

2020 was an eventful year in South Asia. The year kicked off with the anti-CAA protests and the Delhi riots in India. COVID-19 spread through the region, devastating India in particular. The China-India border witnessed the first killings in 40 years, bringing the already tense relationship to historic lows. California Senator Kamala Devi Harris became the first Indian American to be elected Vice-President. The Intra-Afghan talks continued with President Trump rushing to remove the remaining US troops before the end of his term. And, finally, farmers from the Indian states of Punjab and Haryana have been protesting in huge numbers against newly passed laws deregulating agriculture. 

It was a difficult year for everyone, and South Asia is no exception. Some relatively light-hearted moments, however, involved the seriousness with which South Asian countries staked their claims to disputed territories by issuing new maps. While cartographic warfare and propaganda are regular features of South Asian politics, they reached new and humorous heights in 2020.

First, let us take a look at Nepal. In 2019, after reorganizing the borders of the erstwhile state of Jammu and Kashmir, India issued a new map to reflect the change. As expected, Pakistan and China were not pleased with the map, which laid claim to territories controlled by them but long claimed by India. The lesser-known conflagration that developed was between India and Nepal. Nepal lays claim to a small strip of land on its northwest border with India, which includes the Kalapani territory, the Lipulekh pass, and the Limpiyadhura pass. The issue comes from ambiguities in an 1806 treaty signed by the Kingdom of Nepal and the British East India Company (border disputes created by British maps are a theme in this piece). India, however, has controlled the territory since its 1962 war with China. The issue subsided until 2020 when India inaugurated a road that connects India and China through the disputed territory. The road is meant to facilitate the travel of Hindu pilgrims to holy sites in Tibet, but many in Nepal were not pleased, and protests broke out immediately. So, in May, Nepal issued its own map, which for the first time included the disputed territory, angering India. Now, it seems that relations between the two are on the mend, but the seriousness with which these countries take map-making is strange, considering the minuscule nature of the claims and the fact that new maps do not change the de facto situation.

This brings us to the even more shocking map issued in 2020. Last August, Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan unveiled a new map of Pakistan that included Indian-administered Kashmir. What caught the attention of many in India was that the map also included the Indian regions of Junagadh and Manavadar, which are today in the western state of Gujarat (the home state of Prime Minister Modi). When India was partitioned in 1947 by the British, the princely states (semi-autonomous states that recognized British suzerainty) were technically free to choose between India, Pakistan, or independence. In practice, most princely states within India went to India, and most in Pakistan went to Pakistan. There were three exceptions: Jammu and Kashmir, Hyderabad, and Junagadh. The first involved a Hindu ruler of a majority-Muslim population, while the latter two involved Muslim rulers of majority-Hindu populations. Hyderabad was landlocked within India, so India annexed it in 1948. Junagadh was not connected to Pakistan, but it did border the Arabian Sea and so feasibly could have been part of Pakistan just like East Pakistan (Bangladesh today). The Nawab actually acceded to Pakistan, but the Hindu-majority population protested the move.

Complicating the situation was that Junagadh’s three vassal states were split on the decision. The ruler of Manavadar agreed with accession to Pakistan (which is why it was included in Pakistan’s map), while the other two vassals defied the Nawab and chose to accede to India. The Nawab responded with military force, forcing India to intervene. A referendum was held in 1948 in the states, and the people chose to accede to India. Pakistan never accepted the results, but the dispute was forgotten (though it was a major crisis between 1947 and 1948). 

That is, until 2020 . . . maybe. It’s unlikely Pakistan seriously claims Junagadh and Manavadar. The fact that Pakistan never included Junagadh in its maps after 1948 means that Pakistan’s claims are rather pointless. Additionally, the idea of Pakistan was to create a homeland for South Asian Muslims, but Junagadh was Hindu-majority. So, the unveiling of the map was simply a move to irritate India, which it succeeded in doing. 

While these instances have been humorous and insignificant, maps have had real and serious consequences in South Asia since 1947. The British (as usual) were rather terrible at map-making, leading to the current tensions between India, China, Pakistan, Nepal, and Bhutan. 

A lesser-known (but no less deadly) theater of the Kashmir dispute also resulted from cartographic ambiguities. In 1972, the Simla Agreement was signed by India and Pakistan to provide a new framework for dialogue after the two had fought a third war in 1971. The agreement settled the de facto border between the two countries in the disputed Kashmir region, except for one small region: the Siachen glacier. It is a truly desolate high-altitude area, and the makers of the agreement never considered that anyone would seriously covet it. But covet it they did. 

In 1980, the US Defense Mapping Agency included the glacier within the borders of Pakistan. India was not pleased, and the two countries ended up fighting over the glacier, first by sending mountaineering expeditions and then with soldiers and weapons. India ended up with control of the glacier, but both countries continue to suffer heavy casualties largely due to the bitingly cold Himalayan temperatures. The conflict (dubbed the highest battlefield in the world) also gave rise to a new term: oropolitics (“politics of mountains” in Greek). So, have a laugh over the cartographic developments of 2020, bearing in mind the serious consequences the humble map can have.