Today, July 26, 2024, is the 25th anniversary of the end of the Kargil War.
It was early May, 1999. The heat in Delhi was blazing. All was going well between India and its western neighbour Pakistan. Months ago, two head of governments, Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Pakistan’s Nawaz Sharif had had a bus ride which boosted confidence in the peace talks.
In the middle of May, while shepherding yaks in the remote Batalik sector, Tashi Namgyal spotted men climbing the remote terrain well-armed with fire power and ration. From their clothing he could understand that they weren’t Indian soldiers but something like raiders. Although Namgyal reported the actions, response was delayed. In August of 1965 during Pakistan’s launch of Operation Gibralter, another Indian shepherd Mohammed Din provided intelligence to the Indian army post in Gulmarg.
While peace was in order in both countries, Pakistan’s army general, Pervez Musharraf was hatching a plan which he failed to realise years ago as a Brigade Commander in Siachen. The Srinagar Leh highway was now under assault. India would be cut as Zozila and beyond was under Pakistan’s eye. NH1A was no longer a safe road, nor were the villages along Dras, Kargil, Batalik, Turtuk, and Mushko.
An Indian patrol party led by Captain Saurabh Kalia were suddenly attacked as they went for a reconnaissance and later, eight soldiers of India army were returned mutilated, understood to be non-professional behaviour in which no armies in the world behaved then.
The war began. Pakistan called it Operation Ko-Paima (Urdu for ‘mountain climber,’ in short ‘Op KP’) while India named it Operation Vijay (meaning winner).
As the heat in New Delhi was blazing, soldiers climbing an average 15,000 feet in the Kargil-Dras sector was fighting hypothermia, aridness and low oxygen. The Zanskar and Kargil range are barren and operations can only be taken during the night as the enemy could spot Indian soldiers. Heavy mortar plus machine gun fire would have stopped the climb.
Meanwhile a barrage of artillery shelling took place from both sides. NH1A was pounded while the Indian army had to travel in civilian lorries as decoy. India took out a controversial gun – the Bofors field gun. The gun had tainted the Congress government in 1988, when then prime minister Rajiv Gandhi was accused in getting kickbacks for the induction of that particular field gun, and lost the elections in the name of corruption. Bofors were pulled up and they were used as cover fire and for breaking Pakistan’s supply helipad and ammunition depot behind Sando Top and Gultari.
Pervez Musharraf the architect of this Operation KP planned it secretively even keeping it away from then Military Intelligence Chief Eshan ul Haq who later became the Inter-Services Intelligence DG. The accessions Musharraf gave to India are very well explained in his memoir Into The Line of Fire.
At the same time, he never shied away from saying that the Pakistan army consulted with “freedom fighters’ (mujahideen/terrorists) to keep the bunkers safe from Indian firing. This exposed his open support for the parallel army which he and earlier General Zia ul Haq bred.
An average of 600 were killed on the Indian side and 700 on Pakistan’s side. The war was a tight-rope walk for India as it had to mobilise national resources in a terrain that’s not only hostile for battles but also because transportation was at a risk at such an altitude. There were reports that Pakistan had stored two months ammunition only to finish it within 48 hours against India’s firepower.
India lost many brave hearts but only to secure the bunkers and strategic points that led it to claim Operation Vijay a success. The airforce had launched its own operation called Operation Safed Sagar or ‘white ocean.’
Decades hence, Kashmir still simmers with ongoing tensions – despite the promise of safety in the reading down of Article 370.
These images are taken over the years, and this year especially, to show how India has regarded its border management.
Shome Basu is a photographer and journalist.