IT is the fate of journals with international circulation to fall foul of governments when they comment on any dispute between them or, worse still, publish a map which depicts rival territorial claims. The Economist earned censorship by India twice within six months; by its issues on May 18 and Nov 19.

The first had an article entitled ‘Fantasy frontiers’ on ‘Indian, Pakistani and Chinese border disputes’. The accompanying map was not to New Delhi’s liking. Formerly offensive cartography received no more severe punishment than a rubber-stamped warning that the map was neither accurate nor authentic. This time the map was ‘obliterated’ by pasting a piece of paper over it; irremovable except by tearing the page. Subscribers receive the issues late.

The issue of Nov 19 carried an article entitled ‘Unquenchable thirst’ based on reports from Delhi, Dhaka, Islamabad and Srinagar. The sub-title said ‘A growing rivalry between India, Pakistan and China over the region’s great rivers may be threatening South Asia’s peace’. The accompanying map, at page 24 was pasted over. But incompetence reared its head over
the ire. For, a notice on page 26 was left intact. And this piece instructed readers how to get the obliterated map.

It read thus: “Missing map? Sadly, India censors maps that show the current effective border, insisting instead that only its full territorial claims be shown. It is more intolerant on this issue than either China or Pakistan. Indian readers will therefore probably be deprived of the map in this briefing. Unlike their government, we think our Indian readers can face political reality. Those who want to see an accurate depiction of the various territorial claims can do so using our interactive map at Economist.com/asianborders.”

When one turns to this map one finds nothing that could offend, let alone harm, any country’s cause. Proceeding from the east to the west, the McMahon Line is clearly depicted but with the qualification “disputed border”. China raised the dispute belatedly two decades after the Simla Conference of 1914; and then through maps privately published. But in 2011 it would be manifestly wrong to deny the existence of a dispute or contest the related note on the Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh that its territory, just below the Line, is “largely claimed by China”.

The same holds true for what is known in the lingo of the Sino-Indian boundary dispute as “the middle sector” in Uttar Pradesh (the UP of old). A dispute did arise in 1954. Both parts of Kashmir are shown as being “administered” respectively by India and Pakistan. The Line of Control was clear. The Aksai Chin plateau, in the Ladakh province of Kashmir, is depicted as an “area held by China, claimed by India”. It has been held by China for at least 50 years.

There is one statement, however, which is palpably untrue. It concerns the Shaksgam Valley and asserts “area ceded by Pakistan to China”. Pakistan ceded no territory to China under their agreement of March 2, 1963. On the contrary, it received from China 750 square miles of administered territory beyond the watershed; the traditional grazing ground for people in Hunza. The added assertion ‘claimed by India’ is factually correct. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru did contest the validity of the agreement no sooner it was published.

The map is analysed in detail because it is a classic case of much ado about nothing. The map depicts the factual position, steering clear of legality. The Economist had informed subscribers in a message that the map showed “the current effective border”.

India is not alone in being possessed of a map phobia; only, in its case the malaise results in excessive exertion. Maps evoke awe as if there is something very consequential about their lines. In truth a map is a statement by cartography, no different from a statement in words. Like any other statement, it can be used as evidence for or against the party. No map and no statement can be published to strengthen a party’s case once a dispute arises.

Earlier maps or statements can be used either as claims honestly made or as admissions adverse to the interests of the country which had published them. A map is not a document of title. It lacks intrinsic force and cannot, by itself, cede territory. That is done by a treaty of cession.

A map is usually annexed to illustrate the deed. So also, a boundary agreement which defines the boundary in an area where the boundary had not been defined — as is the case of the Sino-Pak agreement. The document lays down the alignment of the boundary; the map illustrates the alignment; after joint surveys, the defined boundary is demarcated on the ground and a new agreed map finally settles the matter.

In the classic arbitral award in the Island of Palmas case the distinguished Judge Max Huber said, “Only with the greatest caution can account be taken of maps in deciding a question of sovereignty”.

What is plain as pikestaff is that no map published in a privately published journal, however reputable, can affect a country’s case one bit. Maps published in the past in authoritative or specialised journals are relevant; but not decisive. The US State Department removed maps of South Asia from its website, on Nov 22, because it did not wish to annoy either India or Pakistan.

There is, besides, a domestic aspect. No state has a right to ban maps which go against its stand in an international dispute.

Such a ban would violate the citizen’s right to freedom of speech and be unconstitutional. In a democracy, a citizen has every right to disagree with his government’s stand in an international dispute and express his dissent in words — or in maps.

The writer is a lawyer and author based in Mumbai.