Kargil war

Kargil @ 25: It Was a Total failure of Strategic, Operational and Tactical Intelligence

General V.P. Mallik’s three-doctrinal assumptions about deterrence are invalidated by ground realities.

As India observes the 25th anniversary of the Kargil conflict between India and Pakistan, the question to ask is, did India’s military leadership learn the correct lessons? A good way to approach this subject is to go back to the primary source: the then Indian chief of army staff, General V.P. Malik’s book titled Kargil: From Surprise to Victory.

According to Gen. Malik, “Kargil was a limited conventional war under the nuclear shadow where space below the threshold was available, but it had to be exploited carefully.” The general raises three doctrinal issues.

One, Kargil was a limited conventional war,

Two, space for conventional war was available below the threshold nuclear war, and

Three, since the available space was not defined by either side (it would vary from sector to sector on the 776 kms Line of Control and the international border), both sides would need to be careful to not cross the other’s red line for use of nuclear weapons.

Interestingly, these assumptions were accepted as doctrinal truism against both adversaries (Pakistan and China) and were not war-gamed by subsequent military leaders. Therefore, the present concept of building ‘integrated theatre commands’ under the chief of defence staff aims to integrate the army, air force and the navy for joint operations under a limited war.

War doctrines are dynamic; they should evolve with the science (infusion of technologies) and art (concepts to optimise infused technologies) of war. This is what generalship is about. Ironically, Gen. Malik’s doctrinal thinking should have been rejected right when it was articulated since it was fundamentally flawed.

Let’s start with his first assumption on Kargil being a limited war. Now, there is a big difference between war, conflict and grey zone operations. War is when both or all sides bring their full military might to the battlespace to accomplish what was not possible by negotiations. On the other hand, a conflict is when full military might not be brought on the battlespace, and grey zone operations refers to all activities and violence below the threshold of the use of firearms. It becomes clear that conflict is a gamble with firearms, where one or both sides believe, for reasons, that an escalation to war will not happen. All conflicts are aberrations, and hence doctrines for war cannot be built on them.

Indian soldiers in Batalik during the Kargil War. Photo: PMO

Thus, Kargil was a conflict since Pakistan brought minimal regular military in the battlespace that gave India the option to use its military assets unconventionally. Pakistan, under General Pervez Musharraf injected five battalions of its then paramilitary, the Northern Light Infantry (NLI), a brigade worth of regular troops to provide covering fire, and Mujahids in the conflict. The Pakistan Air Force, the Pakistan Navy and most of the Pakistan Army were not even in the information loop of the General headquarters (GHQ) to maintain secrecy. Only four headquarters, namely, GHQ, Rawalpindi corps headquarters, Force Command Northern Area (responsible for Siachen), and ISI headquarters were to execute the operation.

Also read: Kargil: The People Who Didn’t Do Their Job – and Those Who Did

On the Indian side, all three services were involved in the operation. The Indian Army operation was called Operation Vijay, the Indian Air Force’s (IAF) was named Operation Safed Sagar, while the Indian Navy, which was on war alert, called its activities Operation Talwar. Under Operation Vijay, five infantry divisions and 100 artillery guns (many used in a direct firing role as enemy air defence and air force was not active) were inducted in the battlespace, while the holding or pivot corps were ordered to be on high alert. Gen. Malik gambled in assembling 100 artillery guns since they were pulled out from strike corps denuding them of firepower. This showed poor level of war preparedness and nervousness of the army leadership to reclaim territory occupied by Mujahids at the earliest.

The panic at Army Headquarters in Delhi was understandable since there was total failure of strategic, operational and even tactical intelligence on what Pakistan’s GHQ was up to. Two instances make this point: in the absence of the army chief, Gen Malik who was in Poland, his vice-chief, Lt Gen S. Chandrashekar reached out to his counterpart at the Air Headquarters (account of this in Air Chief Marshal Tipnis’s article on operation Safed Sagar exclusive for FORCE) to provide gunships without government’s knowledge to destroy what he thought were some dug in terrorists; he had no idea of Pakistan army’s preparation done over one year.

And two, without tactical intelligence on the enemy, the army top brass, in panic displaying poor leadership ordered units to climb heights to clear Mujahids occupying them. Of the 574 soldiers’ lives lost during the conflict, maximum casualties were in this phase. Furthermore, desertions happened and scapegoats for putting blame were found. Ideally, a national commission should have been set up after the conflict to ascertain the truth. This did not happen as the Vajpayee government based on Kargil victory sought advantage in the impending general elections.

Moreover, there was acute shortage of war withal (ammunitions, spares and so on) at the height of the conflict in June 1999 with Gen. Malik publicly telling the media that “we will fight with whatever we have.” There were umpteen media reports of bureaucrats from ministry of defence flying across the globe with huge suitcases brimming with US dollars for expeditious purchase of ammunition and spares. Since Musharraf was found to be in Beijing getting war withal from China, Indian worry was that the conflict should not become a war. On the part of Army Headquarters in Delhi, poor leadership was apparent as it was well known that given General headquarters Rawalpindi’s major advantage of it alone deciding on when and where to start the war with India, the Indian military should be always prepared for war at short notice.

Ironically, believing that people have short memory, on the eve of the present anniversary celebrations, Gen. Malik told the media that ‘if we (Indian military) had escalated, which we were prepared for, we would have had more casualties.’ Truth was three-fold: critical shortage of war withal; hence, the Vajpayee government’s brief to simply evict Mujahids from Indian soil; and therefore, the meeting of Indian and the US’ National Security Advisors in Europe to end the conflict. Besides, Gen. Malik should know that conflicts/wars are conducted to accomplish political objectives and military aims and are never ended for fear of casualties.

To dwell further on Malik’s limited war concept, it cannot become a doctrine since all wars are different. On the one hand, a war between peer military competitors (India and Pakistan), and between unequal military powers (India and China) will not be the same. Even between India and Pakistan, a war depends on each sides’ war aims, preparedness for war, comparative advantages at strategic and operational levels of war and generalship. For this reason, professional militaries test doctrines and war concepts by a mix of simulations, war games and realistic exercises with troops. While this has never been done to put Malik’s assumption to real test, the present military leadership is building integrated theatre commands on another wrong assumption that the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) and the Pakistan military war concepts being similar will allow switching of Indian formations from one theatre to another with a different adversary.

At the Kargil War memorial an armyman tells the story of Operation Vijay to visitors.

Worse, after the Kargil conflict, the most important lesson should have been to build credible conventional war deterrence (capabilities and capacities) to prevent another misadventure by Pakistan. According to the Kargil Review Committee Report of year 2000: ‘Successive Indian chiefs of army staff and director generals of military operations told the committee that bringing to bear India’s assumed conventional superiority (against Pakistan) was not serious option.’ The Indian army did not do this. It, instead, convinced the political leadership to do the contrary: raise a new 14 corps headquarters for war, and an additional 37 battalions (some 50,000 troops including various headquarters) of Rashtriya Rifle units to pursue counter terror operations more vigorously. This way, the army created more posts for senior officers, while doing more of the same on the ground. The recent series of terrorist attacks in Jammu region are evidence of Indian army’s reluctance to focus on building credible deterrence. Indian will continue to lose more young and brave soldiers in this war that cannot be won since the initiative of time, place and quantum of attacks is with the faceless and nameless terrorists.

Also read: The Truth About the Kargil War Is Bitter But it Must Be Told

Let’s now discuss Malik’s second doctrinal assumption on linkage between conventional and nuclear wars. Sadly, both Pakistan and China understood the lessons of the Cold War on this subject, which Malik and the present Indian military leadership still do not know it. In the Fifties during the Cold War, the United States realised that, though technologically inferior, the Soviet Union had more conventional weapons (more tanks, more guns, more aircraft and so on) than Nato forces. To offset the advantage of the Soviet Union, the Pentagon initiated its “first offset strategy”, which introduced tactical nukes in battlespace.

The thinking was that tactical nukes would halt the Soviet’s conventional blitzkrieg, and as the US had far more strategic nukes, the Soviets were unlikely to escalate. Then by the Seventies, the Pentagon assessed that the Soviets had comparable capabilities in both strategic and tactical nukes, which made first use of tactical nukes by Nato risky. Hence the need for Pentagon’s “second offset strategy”, which was based on long range precision fires to stop the Soviet advance well before the tactical war was joined. The lesson which came out of the two offset strategies was this: nuclear and conventional deterrence are not linked. They must be built separately.

Former prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee visiting Pokhran after the 1998 nuclear tests. Photo: File

For this reason, after India’s nuclear tests in May 1998, the Pakistan Army chief, General Jehangir Karamat, ignoring US pressure and allurements to not follow India’s example, did nuclear tests of its own. Karamat said that these were necessary to maintain strategic balance with India. In other words, strategic and conventional war deterrence are separate. Moreover, when the Indian Army announced its Cold Start doctrine, supposed capability to cross over into Pakistan territory at zero notice, Pakistan, within months, said it had full spectrum nuclear deterrence, which included tactical nukes. The latter are not for use, but, given the short time needed to cross into Pakistan territory, tactical nukes are meant to deter India from exercising the zero-notice option. Another example of this truism is in the West Pacific where the PLA and the US military are locked in a security competition. Here, given its small numbers compared with the US military, the PLA is furtively building its nuclear arsenal, knowing well the need for separate nuclear and conventional war deterrence.

Thus, Malik’s assumption of linkage between nuclear and conventional wars is wrong. The way to deter conventional war is by building deterrence for it. Moreover, when the deterrence gap is hugely disproportionate, as in the case of the PLA and the Indian military, the PLA, should it decide, will not hesitate to wage an occupational war like reclaiming Arunachal Pradesh which it calls South Tibet. The PLA has enormous capabilities to neutralise India’s meagre nuclear capability for its conventional, non-strategic (tactical) and strategic means.

Coming to Malik’s third assumption, between peer competitors like India and Pakistan, Rawalpindi is unlikely to gain much by a conventional war with India. This explains why it has been waging a proxy war in Jammu and Kashmir since 1991. By doing this, the Pakistan Army has made a major gain by the slow bleeding of the Indian Army, where India is losing its trained young soldiers to terrorists with no loss to the Pakistan Army which continues with its war preparedness.

Moreover, the fact that not a single military officer has questioned Malik’s doctrinal wisdom is evidence that senior military leaders read very little and think even less. No wonder they are not confident about speaking their minds to the political leadership. Perhaps, today is the time for introspection and resolve to build credible deterrence to safeguard national sovereignty.

Pravin Sawhney’s latest book is titled The Last War: How AI Will Shape India’s Final Showdown with China.

Kargil: The People Who Didn’t Do Their Job – and Those Who Did

Had we not slept and had our people who matter remembered what Kautilya had written two and a half millennia ago – ‘intelligence should underpin all aspects of governance’ – we would not have been caught silly, as we were.

Today, July 26, 2024, is the 25th anniversary of the end of the Kargil war.

The fifth floor of the headquarters of the Indian Air Force is the power centre of the IAF.

I, a Wing Commander then, was busy, with my nose dug deep in some file when the buzzer sounded twice in quick succession. That was unusual. As a Staff Officer to the Chief of the Air Staff (CAS), and whose job was to manage his Secretariat, two quick buzzes meant the boss was in a hurry.

I yanked the phone from its cradle and said, “Sir?”

Air Chief Marshal Anil Yashwant Tipnis said, “Get JD (H) and you too come along with him.”

On the intercom I asked Group Captain Anthony, the Joint Director of the Helicopter fleet, to come quickly to the Chief’s office; he queried, “What’s up?” as the Chief normally doesn’t call a Joint Director for consultation.

I said that I didn’t know but the Vice Chief of Army Staff (VCOAS) had asked for an urgent meeting and was inside the office with him. It was around 10 am or so on Friday, May 14, 1999. While the IAF knew that something was not right up North, it was about to know that things were really amiss in the desolate heights over Kargil.

As I waited for Groupie Anthony to arrive the Chief buzzed again and wanted to know how many troops could be slithered or dropped in the hills. Before he could be asked further details like altitude of the helipad, its size, fuel on board etc, he cut the line. ‘Tan,’ as Groupie Anthony was known as, walked in and in the same incredulous voice that I had heard on the intercom, asked, “What’s happened?” After quickly discussing the Chief’s query we decided to ask for further details without which an answer could not be given.

We walked into the Chief’s office. He and the VCOAS were seated on the sofa with an Army map lying on the table in front – the fancy one that the Army makes with red, yellow and blue squares, rectangles, triangles et al.

Also read: In Photos: 25 Years Since the Kargil War Ended, the Past and Present of an Operation

The same questions were shot at us to which we responded that the carrying capacity would depend on a host of factors like the time of the day (as it would affect temperature), height of the helipad, distance to the nearest refuelling point (as that would determine the fuel on board) and size of the landing or drop-off area. We were told it would be around fifteen odd thousand feet.

Location? Somewhere in the Northern sector.

Nearest refuelling point? To which the Chief looked at the VCOAS who asked why we wanted to know that. On being told that if the helicopter carried extra fuel it would mean higher weight and that would determine the number of soldiers that it could carry, the Chief interjected to say that it would be around 20 minutes flying away.

There was another question that was equally important – would the area be clear for the helicopters to hover close to the ground so that the troops could jump off or would they have to hover high due trees and vegetation and the troops would slither down on ropes?

It was getting a bit too technical, so the Chief decided to let us in on the actual problem; there are some intruders, he said, who had occupied a few peaks near Kargil and Army troops were to be dropped to evict them. Now things were clearer, for Kargil and another place Dras (to be equally famous very soon), had refuelling facilities and were not far from the scene of action. We said we would take a little time and come back with the details along with a map marked out with all the information.

Indian soldiers in Batalik during the Kargil War. Photo: PMO

As we came out of the Chief’s office ‘Tan’ angrily said,” Now I know why the Army has been after me this past week! Officers from the MO (military operations) have been coming and asking the same question and we have been asking for the same details, but they have been very evasive. They have just been asking for utilisation of armed helicopters at high altitude.” In the event, quick calculations were done and ballpark figures sent in to the Chief. While Groupie Anthony departed I remember thinking that we could be in ‘real’ business very soon.

May 16 was a Sunday and VCOAS again asked to meet the Chief; the ops staff and AOC-in-C of Western Air Command (WAC) were present. While the Air Force was going ahead with its readiness for all eventualities, there was still a doubt whether the situation was as grave as that being made out. WAC had information that the Northern Command Army Commander was planning to go to Pune – and this obviously would not happen if there was an emergency on hand.

The conference got over around mid-day and CAS left for South Block for an urgent Chiefs of Staff Committee meeting that had been convened, while CinC WAC left for his Command HQ at Delhi Cantonment. I was manning the office; the RAX rang and AOC-in-C of WAC came on the line, “I say Bahadur, go and tell the Chief that the Army Commander has just taken off for Pune.”

The Sunday activation was a pre-cursor to many meetings that gained in intensity and frequency. As a need-to-know policy, it was only the ops staff and some others who were in the loop. However, one knew that air assets were being moved in anticipation of ‘something’ happening in Kargil.

The question doing the rounds was, were the intruders Pakistanis or were they insurgents who had occupied some peaks?

The scene fast forwards to May 20, 1999 when the CAS left for Goa to review the passing out parade of the Naval Academy at INS Mandovi. The weather had started deteriorating and the Chief was a little worried that his Sea Harrier sortie planned the next day may not go through. ACM Tipnis, the keen flier that he was, really wanted to fly the Harrier, perhaps one of the few on the inventory of the Armed Forces that he had not got airborne in.

May 21 dawned with cloudy skies and as the Chief strapped up in the Harrier on the tarmac at Dabolim, it started pouring. I was in the corridors of the Naval Squadron, watching the activity. The Chief’s mobile phone rang; on the line was Air Vice Marshal ‘Teju’ Asthana, then Asst Chief of Air Staff (Operations). On being told that the Chief was in the Harrier cockpit waiting to taxy out, he told me to inform the CAS that a Canberra on a recce sortie in the Mushko valley had been hit by ground fire and that it had made a safe single engine landing at Srinagar – all was okay otherwise, he said.

He also wanted the Chief to be told that the Vice Chief would attend a special COSC meeting that had being called for May 23 by the Army Chief, who had returned from Poland. The rain meanwhile intensified and the Chief’s sortie had to be cancelled. When told about the Canberra hit he spoke to the Vice Chief, Air Marshal ‘Ben’ Brar and asked for a map of Kargil.

When the Naval guys were told about the map requirement, they were flummoxed. A map of Kargil op area in Goa? The nearest any Naval aviator had been to the hills were those in the Western Ghats! Remember, there was no Google Earth that time from a where a commercial grade map could be downloaded! But, they did produce a one million scale map of Kargil from somewhere and a proper one at that! The hit on the Canberra had altered the dynamics as understood then and the Chief decided to cut short his visit after reviewing the Passing out Parade the next day and return to Delhi to attend the Special COSC meeting.

May 22 dawned and the heavens really opened up! The parade at INS Mandovi was held in pouring rain and the Air Chief, typical of him, refused an umbrella and got as wet as the newly commissioned trainees! After a quick lunch we took off in the An-32 that had been hurriedly positioned and reached Delhi in the evening.

Meanwhile, the seriousness of the situation had become evident to all, with frenetic activity all round – and as they say the rest is history. Many an account of subsequent events, including the narration by Air Chief Marshal Tipnis referred-to in this article that appeared in the October issue of Force magazine in 2006, has been written of what happened thereafter.

My account of those initial days, however, would not be complete without going through the sheer thrill and romance of being part of the Chief’s incognito visit to Srinagar on May 25 just after he returned from the meeting of the Cabinet Committee on Security. As we were to know later, the go-ahead had been given by the Prime Minister for operations to commence on May 26. The Air Assistant to CAS, Air Commodore Ajit Bhavnani asked me to manage a pair of Wing Commander rank badges for the CAS, “The Chief is going incognito to Srinagar and you will accompany him.”

This is like in the movies, I remember thinking!

I rushed to Wing Commander Suneel Soman, the Staff Officer to VCAS and just told him, “Give me your rank badges.” He knew something was on for he readily obliged without asking any questions and, for the first time ever, a course-mate de-tabbed another coursemate!

I called my wife and told her to send a light jacket in a vehicle that would be reaching home soon. “A jacket in the month of May in Delhi,” she enquired? I made some excuse about it being required by an officer having to go to Shillong at short notice, and that was that. What about lunch? The lunch box of the other Staff Officer, Group Captain Sistla, was hijacked and along with my own I dashed to Palam.

Chief was already in the aircraft that had been held back to take some, ‘special load.’ As the Chief has written in his article, the young Flight Lieutenant who was lounging near the aircraft nearly threw a fit on seeing a familiar ‘Wing Commander’ getting down from an unmarked Ambassador car and walking straight in. As I ran into the An-32, I saw a young Sikh officer, a Flight Lieutenant and five or six other airmen who were traveling as passengers, equally stunned by the happenings of the past few minutes. The An-32 soon got airborne.

As it levelled off at top of climb some plates from the lunch box that was carried by the crew were managed; one spoon surfaced from somewhere and we offered Chief the dosa that Mrs Sistla had sent for her husband and some roti-subzi kept by my wife. All tiffin boxes opened up and after a community type of lunch a few guys fell asleep, as the aircraft droned on to Srinagar and landed uneventfully.

The Air Traffic Control had been asked to request the Air Officer Commanding of Srinagar to receive the aircraft in person as there was an important parcel to be handed over. The rear ramp of the An-32 opened and out walked the Chief with Wing Commander stripes on his shoulders. But how does one hide one’s shock of thick grey hair? The AOC had a cane in his hand; he squinted a little as if to focus properly and then the reality struck.

CAS A.Y. Tipnis with the troops. Photo: Force magazine.

As Air Chief Marshal Tipnis has written in his article, “I could see the AOC standing akimbo, with his dog on a leash, a picture of local top authority. When I walked down the ramp of the aircraft, the AOC had walked around to the back of the aircraft, doing nothing to mask his impatience. If the situation were not what it was, I would have burst out laughing to see a figure of authority instantly transform into that of a subordinate. Senior Air Officers are tough customers and he recovered quickly.” The Chief’s description is a little misplaced here. The AOC was not standing with the dog. As the AOC opened the door of the Maruti Gypsy jeep for the CAS, his dog jumped out at the Chief and thereafter started running around on the tarmac. I agree with the Chief (I better), “Had it not been for the circumstances, it would have been hilarious!”

And Air Chief Tipnis then writes that the dog disappeared – no sir, it did not! The AOC’s Gypsy was a two-door vehicle and since the Chief had already sat down in front and the AOC had literally dived into the driver’s seat, there was little else I could have done but to yank open the luggage door at the back and sit on the floor, with the AOC’s dog.

The visit was very exciting, to say the least! There were a lot of aircrew in the briefing room in the ATC building. Being from the helicopter fleet, I knew many rotary wing guys who crowded around me asking whether we were ‘going-in’ for real. I really didn’t know, but a Chief doesn’t come incognito for nothing! He spoke to everyone present, got the Corps Commander of 15 Corps over for a face to face chat and left no one in doubt that the country meant business. As ACM Tipnis has written, “It was the prerogative of AOCinC Western Air Command to give the actual order,” which duly came for action to commence on May 26.

Were the guys raring to go? They sure were, and there is no doubt about that.

Were they all mentally tuned to the fact that it was serious business and one could get hurt? I am not too sure, for when I asked whether they had planned for survival in the hills (16-17000 feet, unlike the wonderful weather that prevailed in May in Srinagar), I noticed that some had not.

I did give the supervisors a piece of my mind for not ensuring this.

The High Altitude War School in Dras, called HAWS, trains the mountain divisions and other military men who have to acclimatise at these heights of 16000 ft above mean sea level. Photo: Shome Basu.

Very soon, off course, we realised that guns fired in anger invite retaliation of the violent kind. After the initial aircraft losses, the tactics were adapted to the peculiarities of delivering ordnance at 16-18000 feet! Helicopters, after their initial employment, were not utilized in the armed role because of their limitations at those altitudes. That it led to some bad blood and intemperate comments is a fact, but those in the know of high altitude flight operations know that it was a decision taken after a clinical and professional assessment of the realities, as emotions have no place in matters of life and death the fact that there were no further losses testified to the soundness of the decision.

There were many lessons to be learnt from Kargil, the foremost being that ‘eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.’ Too many people who were supposed to monitor the goings-on across the frontier did not do their job. Much has been written about the failure of intelligence agencies (both military and civilian) and the turf wars and lack of coordination between them, but surely, how could our spymasters have missed ones like the activity at Skardu?

Air Commodore (retired) Kaiser Tufail, who was Director of Operations of Pakistan Air Force in 1999 has written:

“Helicopter flying activity was feverishly high as Army Aviation’s Mi-17s were busy moving artillery guns and ammunition to the mountain tops. Troops in battle gear were to be seen all over the city. Interestingly, messes were abuzz with war chatter amongst young officers. In retrospect one wonders how Indian intelligence agencies failed to read any such signs, many weeks before the operation unfolded.”

Had we not slept and had our people who matter remembered what Kautilya had written two and a half millennia ago – ‘intelligence should underpin all aspects of governance,’ we would not have been caught silly, as we were.

ACM Tipnis strapping up in a Cheetah for a recce of Kargil hills, 25 years ago, while I [Air Vice Marshal Manmohan Bahadur] discuss something with then Air Cmde Bhavnani, the Chief’s AA. This is at Matayan helipad beyond Zoji La, where the Army had its Tac Hq. Photo: By arrangement/Air Vice Marshal Manmohan Bahadur

I was later to visit Kargil along with CAS and the Army Chief, when both went there to review the progress, halfway through the two month long conflict. The heights that the Indian jawans and officers were fighting at were simply awe inspiring. Having spent the major part of my career in Srinagar and Leh sector, those hills were not at all new for me. But I remembered the words of my seniors when I joined 114 Helicopter Unit in 1978 as a young Flying Officer (114 was later christened The Siachen Pioneers) – “No harm will come your way if you respect the mountains – they are permanent, we are just transitory.”

The Indian Army and the Indian Air Force got the tricolour back to where it belonged above the hills of Dras and Kargil but the country paid a heavy price, as many of its sons never returned and quite a few were maimed for life. One can only marvel at those brave Indians, exemplified by the likes of Captain Vikram Batra who said, “Yeh dil maange more (this heart wants more)” and went up those daunting hills again for another mission, never to come back.

May your souls rest in peace dear comrades for you have done your duty, but let your selflessness trigger the conscience of the remaining countrymen enjoying the fruits of your valour so that they too put India first before everything else. The Nation owes you a debt of gratitude that can never measure up to your bravery and sacrifice!

Jai Hind!

Post script: Did my wife catch on to the May 25 incognito trip to Srinagar with the Air Chief? No she didn’t, as on returning home I quietly put back the jacket she had sent me after smuggling it in my briefcase. Next day, when the air strikes went in and started getting reported on national TV, she got the plot!

Air Vice Marshal Manmohan Bahadur retired from the Indian Air Force after 36 years of distinguished service. He was Assistant Chief of Integrated Defence Staff In-Charge of tri-Service perspective planning and force structure. Earlier, he was Assistant Chief of Air Staff (Transport and Helicopters) at Air HQ.

This piece was originally published on FORCE magazine in 2013, on the 14th anniversary of the Kargil conflict. It is being republished with permission on the 25th anniversary of the end of the war.

In Photos: 25 Years Since the Kargil War Ended, the Past and Present of an Operation

These images are taken over the years, and this year especially, to show how India has regarded its border management and how the war shaped it.

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.

The new tunnel road which will connect LoC with Siachen AGPL and LAC in China is being built.

The shepherds provided key intelligence in 1965 and 1999.

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.

A chicken seller in Dras.

An Indian Army officer looks through a high optical instrument across the LoC in Kargil sector.

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.

BRO’s infrastructure building.

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).

The village for the Hunderman which is a small population living at the edge of the LoC.

Hunderman Balti people.

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.

The roads to the peaks.

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.

The Bofors placed along the LoC. It saved the Indian post in the 87-day war in the summer of 1999.

The Bofors in display.

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.

The Singho river dominates the LoC in Kargil Dras sector as a watershed area.

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.

Busy Kargil streets once hit by war.

Indian armymen trainng in their regular small arm practice in Dras.

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.

The Tiger Hill.

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.’

The tomb stone of the martyrs who lost their lives in the 1999 war, at the Dras memorial. Behind is the Toolong hill.

The strategic peaks and the troop movement along the LoC where Pakistan keeps a close watch.

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.

Mushkow Valley where the battle was fought in extreme conditions.

Shome Basu is a photographer and journalist.

25 Years of Kargil: Former Air Force Chief A.Y. Tipnis Recounts ‘Operation Safed Sagar’

Operation Safed Sagar, was the codename that the Indian Air Force had given to its role in Operation Vijay, the Kargil War of 1999.

Operation Safed Sagar, was the codename that the Indian Air Force had given to its role in Operation Vijay, the Kargil War of 1999. It is expected that most lay people will not be able to relate it to Kargil. That is how it ought to be. It was not meant for public usage, but for reference within the service, and for maintaining confidentiality. Therefore, its purpose is better served by making it as incongruous as possible to the nature of the operation it represents. But later the name does serve to perpetuate the operation’s legacy. When the name was first suggested, there were mild protests from within the air force ‘operational planning circle’ that it would not catch people’s imagination!

Not surprisingly, stronger voices from outside the air force, questioned the need for a separate code word, as Operation Vijay by itself was considered adequate to cover all facets of the operation!!

It is more than seven years since Pakistan’s surreptitious designs on the icy heights of Kargil fell apart and the rabid hostility of those days is giving way to saner peace-making processes of today. The Kargil Review Committee Report findings have been accepted by the government long ago and the report has been made public, barring some deletions. Over the years there has also been fairly wide coverage by the media. Several books have been published. Air and Army headquarters have undertaken studies/reviews, concluded their findings, drawn lessons and hopefully have taken actions to rectify shortcomings. Under these circumstances, would a re-look at IAF’s participation in the Kargil Operations generate public interest today?

Well, re-look is a common phenomenon and it is strange how re-looks get initiated. Whether a particular re-look generates public or professional interest is a moot point; its timing certainly has some influence in getting people to peruse more than its heading; possibly the author’s name draws some readership, particularly if his authenticity is assumed ab initio! The writer hopes in this instance it would be accepted, as he headed the IAF during Safed Sagar. Strictly speaking, it really is not a re-look, but a first ever public account by the man who held the ultimate responsibility for Safed Sagar.

When is the right time for the then Chief of the Air Force Staff to give his account of the air operations? Difficult to have a specific answer; opinions will vary from immediately after the cessation of operations to never. I have accepted an invitation to write an article now. I can offer reasons, which I think have some validity: earlier this year General Ved Malik, who was the Chief of the Army Staff during Operation Vijay, released his book, Kargil: From Surprise to Victory; this was followed by the publication of Shri Jaswant Singh’s (who played a crucial role as a member of the Cabinet Committee on Security during Kargil) book A Call to Honour: In Service of Emergent India; and now the book, In the Line of Fire: A Memoir, by the ‘villain of Kargil’, General Pervez Musharraf. All the three authors held centre-stage to a varying degree of importance during Kargil and cover in their books the events of the time from their individual perspectives.

As the then Chief of Air Staff, my perspective, I reckon, should also carry interest.

However, my own story, Up and Away into the Blue Yonder, which will certainly cover Safed Sagar, is still in its nascent form to allow it to fall in quick enough succession to the litanies of these august persona. Yet, this is an opportune moment to get across the then air force chief’s point of view. By one of those amazing co-incidents, editor of FORCE, Pravin Sawhney, expressed his keeness to have an article on Safed Sagar for the release of his magazine on the Air Force Day, October 8. I felt I should accept, and offer the treatise as a tribute to a valiant service on the dawn of its platinum year.

Army Needs Air Force’s Help

If memory serves me right, it was probably on the 9th or 10th of May 1999 that the Air Force Vice Chief (VCAS), Air Marshal ‘Ben’ Brar, walked into my office for a cup of tea and a chat, just as we often did whenever we both happened to be in-station together, to talk-over issues informally. There was an uncharacteristic frown on his brow as he took a chair. “Sir,” he began without a preamble, “Assistant Chief of Air Staff (Intelligence) tells me that the army may be in some sort of difficulties in the Kargil area.” On querying what sort of difficulties, he explained he was not sure but there was reportedly unusual artillery firing.

I enquired whether he had any inputs from AOC-in-C Western Air Command (WAC) and the Vice Chief of Army Staff (VCOAS), who was also holding the army ‘fort’ as his Chief was away on a foreign tour. I asked my vice to find out if either of them had anything to say on the subject. AOC-in-C, WAC had later informed VCAS that Northern (Army) Command had not divulged anything to him and that his counter-part, GOC-in-C Northern

Command was away in Pune; possibly to emphasise further that all seemed well. He had informed that both Northern (Army) Command and Western (Army) Command were greatly pre-occupied with preparation for the forthcoming tri-service, very complex, brain-storming exercise, ‘Brahma Astra’. If Northern Command was facing difficulties it was hardly expected that Army Headquarters and these two command headquarters would wish to conduct the exercise in May, and a request for postponement would have been made to Air and Naval Headquarters. VCOAS was non-committal to VCAS.

A day later, because disturbing inputs continued to be brought to his notice by his staff, VCAS again approached the VCOAS to enquire whether all was well; the Army Vice Chief indicated that the army could handle the situation. The VCAS, however, also informed me that the ACAS (Operations) had received an input from Air Officer Commanding HQ Jammu and Kashmir (AOC J&K is collocated with HQ Northern Command and functions as a forward element of HQ WAC for day-to-day interaction with HQ Northern Command. He releases air effort to meet Northern Command’s demands, from within the AF units placed in J&K to the extent possible and within the authority he is delegated), that HQ Northern Command had requested fire-support from Mi-25/35 helicopter gunships and armed Mi-17 helicopters to evict a few ‘intruders’ who had stepped across the Line of Control in the Kargil sector.

AOC J&K had responded that the terrain over which the support was required was beyond the operating envelop of the gunships; for getting fire-support in the existing operating conditions HQ Northern Command needed to approach HQ WAC.

In light of ACA S (Op)’s input, this time I called up AOC-in-C WAC personally and enquired why he had not briefed Air HQ on what was happening. His response was that GOC-in-C Northern Command had still not approached him for any help and WAC had nothing to brief; I was also informed that the GOC-in-C was in fact not available at HQ Northern Command. I directed Air Marshal Vinod Patney (the AOC-in-C) to get ‘hold’ of his counter-part and get to the bottom of what was afoot.

Meanwhile, Air Marshal Brar (VCAS) had again enquired from VCOAS whether they needed help; VCOAS had expressed army’s ability to manage, but was upset that AOC J&K had not acceded to HQ Northern Command’s fire-support demand. VCAS explained that AOC J&K did not have the authority to do so and suggested that both of them discuss the issue with me. VCOAS did not consider it necessary at that juncture, but divulged that Northern Command was putting into action Army Aviation’s Cheetahs mounted with a 7.56mm gun. ‘Ben’ Brar was a ‘hands-on’ VCAS who liked to take action fastest. He suggested that we offer armed Mi-17 helicopters to Northern Command immediately.

Now there was no doubt in my mind that the situation was desperate; using an egg-shell-strong Cheetah in offensive action against certain hostile fire was like presenting a chicken for ‘sacrificial appeasement’! And my vice recommending use of Mi-17 in an environment where it would be under hostile observation and fire for several minutes before and after its attempt (I say attempt because I knew it would have been impossible to put in a successful helicopter attack without creating the necessary conditions for such an attack) at engagement.

I directed VCAS to request VCOAS for a meeting with me and advised VCAS that to enable air force to provide fire-support we needed political clearance. Also, the manner and type of fire-support will be determined by the air force. I think at this stage Lt General Chandrashekhar (VCOAS) gave me a telephonic call. I communicated to him that I appreciated his predicament and was anxious that the air force does its bit soonest.

But I was not successful in persuading him to accept the essentiality of government clearance. Lt Gen. Chandrashekhar said the army will continue on its own.

I may be permitted a diversion at this stage, to give inputs that formed a relevant back-drop to my professional thinking and decision-making ways as chief of air staff and the ultimate professional authority of that time, on how air power should be used. Note the accent is on ‘how’, quite separately and differently from ‘whether or not’; that indisputably, in India’s civil supremacy tradition, I am proud to say, lies with the head of the government, duly assisted by the cabinet committee on security.

No head of an organisation is a ‘know-all’ fountain-head of that institution. He can not possibly have deep enough knowledge of everything within the outfit. The number of disciplines to which he has been exposed to and the extent of that exposure have a profound impact on how well he is able to evaluate experts’ knowledge and advice, and over-ride it with conviction, when necessary. The most difficult challenge to a top man is to hold his ground when there is intense pressure from the top man, who is liked and respected, of a sister service, who is under even greater stress to get the former to do the opposite of what he thinks is right. A philosophical adage, I have tried to emulate through 60 years of ‘greying’ is, ‘treat yourself with your head; treat others with your heart.’ But at various strata of command, I have also realised that one’s head must not allow the heart to let one get carried away emotionally.

I am a product of the National Defence Academy, with a poor academic record and a passable field performance. But I consider that I have imbibed well the central theme of NDA training: developing a strong espirit de corps and a fierce sense of loyalty. I hate friends to think I have let them down. NDA also taught me to respect capability, irrespective of rank. Most importantly, NDA exposure allowed me many opportunities to realise that if one gets over the initial bone-chilling dread of danger, the wrath of overpowering wrongful authority or the fear of being wrong-footed, one can stand his ground in the severest of challenges. It is satisfying to claim that my 41 years of air force service did not require me to modify the Academy’s teachings.

After the humiliating fiasco of the 1962 Sino-Indian conflict, a practice had been initiated to send fighter pilots as Forward Air Controllers to Ladakh, to be attached to HQs of the two brigades, 70 and 114 under 3 Division for a period of four weeks. In mid-1963, as a flying officer, I was attached to 70 Brigade, where the stated four weeks got extended to 12. Instead of working in the Brigade HQ and staying in its mess, a tradition of sorts had been set, by the young, ‘unhappy-to-be-away-from-the-cockpit’ pilots attached to 70 Brigade, of allowing themselves to be hijacked by 9 Dogras for both occupation and sustenance/ shelter. Within days, the initial unhappiness gave way to the joy of camaraderie that develops in a field area. It was wonderful to be a part of the army routine and experience its challenges, even if to a limited degree. I knew I was ‘accepted’ as a part of the battalion, when CO 9 Dogras made me his assistant adjutant! Required to be a part of the brigade HQ, even as a ‘blue’ subaltern I realised, that I could not ignore the other battalion. I went on a seven day reconnaissance patrol with 3/4 Gurkhas to assess the negotiability of passes ranging in altitude from a base-line of 13,000ft to over 15,000ft. It was a point of honour to lead the sturdy Gurkhas, even though my flying boots failed to withstand the rigour of marching. When I visited the bunker defences, I was shocked to see their smallness.

Later, when I got the odd opportunity to direct practice fighter attacks on them, it was frustrating that the pilots were spotting the ‘target’ just around their firing range.

Yet, the crystal-clear azure-blue skies ensured that I never lost sight of the aircraft during its circular attack pattern.

Throughout my fighter squadron service of more than 15 years, I loved participating in army-air force exercises, searching, spotting and attacking targets, whether it was in the plains of Punjab, the desert of Rajasthan or the high mountains of the North. And so it was with most other pilots. The tougher the assignment, the stronger the professional intent to succeed.

I was most fortunate to be assigned the post of AOC HQ J&K. Immediately after taking over I got myself qualified as a pilot on both the Mi-17 and the Chetak/ Cheetah. I flew extensively and familiarised myself with the terrain in the areas of responsibility of both 15 and 16 Corps. Besides both the Corps HQs, I visited the HQ of every division. I visited many brigade and group HQs, landed at tens of helipads, did heli-drops at several locations. I was lucky to be able to visit many forward posts. As the 102 Siachen Brigade offered the toughest tasks to the air force, I may have been partial to it with my time and concern. But I did have a couple of opportunitiesto visit 121 Kargil Brigade. I had covered the length of the brigade area several times by air and once by road. In short, I can claim I had developed a personal ‘feel’ of the area. This was reinforced later during my tenure of 26 months at HQ, WAC, first as Senior Air Staff Officer and then as AOC-in-C. I am deeply conscious that all this sounds too much like brazen blowing of one’s own trumpet. But I consider it necessary to convince that my credentials for giving definitive judgement in the use of air power in the Kargil area, may not be doubted.

To come back to the narrative of the emerging situation in Kargil, on the 14th of May, Lt Gen. Chandrashekhar called on me at Vayu Bhavan. He came to the point immediately: army wanted fire-support by Mi-17 helicopters. Lt Gen. Chandrashekhar observed that the army was capable of throwing back the intruders on its own but it would take time; air support will hasten the process. He felt that political go-ahead was necessary only in case fire-support was being provided by fighters; use of helicopters, even in a fire-support role,

was an in-house services’ headquarters’ decision. I was anxious to put him at ease; I attempted to extend my empathy and expressed my keenness to give support; for the moment he was my counterpart of the army (albeit acting) and an NDA course-mate. To be honest, I did not think I had succeeded in generating any confidence in him. Yet, I managed to convey to him my firm decision that government authorisation was mandatory; we needed to approach the raksha mantri together; I will support his demand for aerial fire-support.

But it needed to be understood that the air force reserved the prerogative to give the fire support in the manner it considered most suitable. I explained that with the conditions obtaining in the problem area, helicopters will be sitting ducks. The VCOAS left soon after,

without I having a clear indication whether he intended to approach the government.

On the next day, 15th of May, I called the VCAS and his two senior assistants, ACAS(Ops) and ACAS(Int) for a situation appraisal meeting. AOC-in-C also participated.

The two ACsAS gave a resume of developments over the previous five days. Reportedly, around 150 intruders had occupied some high points along the LoC ridgeline in the general area of Kargil sector.

Director General Military Operations and ACAS(Ops) had conferred and reconnaissance missions by Jaguars and Canberras were launched. Air defence fighters were kept on ground-alert at Srinagar and Avantipur. Radars in Srinagar Valley were on 24 hours-vigil. Mobile Observation Posts were deployed. An additional direction and control centre was established at Leh. Mi-17 helicopters based at Srinagar were tasked to carry out air-to-ground firing practices with guns and rockets at the high-altitude firing range. I was satisfied with the initiatives taken. I gave my assessment of the situation, followed by directions of what was required to be done immediately:

(a) I observed that the ground situation was grave. Army required air force help to evict the intruders. Army Headquarters was reluctant, possibly because it was embarrassed to have allowed the present situation to develop, to reveal the full gravity of the situation to MoD. Thus it was not amenable to Air Headquarters’ position to seek government approval for use of air power offensively.

(b) Consideration of the use of helicopters in offensive role was denied as they would be vulnerable to the extreme. This was to be projected at all levels of army-air force confabulations. The helicopters would, however, continue to carry out high altitude firing practices.

(c) Fighters deployed in the Valley were to intensify their high altitude air-to-ground firing practices. Fighter pilots manning the squadrons located/deployed in the Valley are to be given terrainfamiliarisation sorties in helicopters, preferably accompanied by army officers familiar with the area.

(d) AOC-in-C, WAC was to activate HQ AOC J&K and all units in the Valley as per plans stipulated in HQ WAC Operational Instructions.

(e) AOC-in-C WAC to formulate contingency plans. 16th of May was a Sunday. Soon after my game of golf, my Air Assistant told me that the VCOAS desired a meeting with me. I directed the AA to organise the meeting in my office and request the VCAS and AOC-in-C WAC to be in attendance. After we had assembled in my office, had given VCOAS a brief resume of the situation obtaining in Kargil, Lt Gen. Chandrashekhar reiterated his request for offensive air support by Mi-17 helicopters. Air Marshal Patney recommended that I call a Chiefs of Staff Committee meeting immediately; Chandrashekhar was amenable to the suggestion.

Without further ado, I telephoned Admiral Sushil Kumar, the Chief of Naval Staff, requesting an immediate COSC meeting; in the absence of Chairman COSC, Gen. Malik, Adm. Kumar would have to chair the meeting. Adm. Kumar, understandably, was mildly irritated that an impromptu meeting was being called on a Sunday. When I explained the situation, a time was set to meet in the Army Operations Room (AOR).

At the AOR, after a situation report, VCOAS expounded on the need for fire-support by helicopters. I tabled my reasons for considering authorisation by government a pre-requisite for releasing offensive air support: Unlike the practice of the army routinely resorting to firing when a situation demanded it, the air force fire power was not being used operationally in peace conditions; aerial action had far greater ‘visibility’; response of the adversary to own air attacks was indeterminate, undoubtedly at this stage; there was a high possibility of the adversary raising the ante and we had to be prepared for it. (The reader might be interested to know that the rocket fire-power of the Mi-17 can be three times more than can be brought to bear by the MiG-21). The gathering generally expressed that it did not realise/consider the consequences of air action as outlined by me. Acting Chairman COSC enquired whether the army could continue on its own. As the given answer was in the affirmative, he ruled we maintain status quo for the present.

On 17th of May, without a fore-intimation of what was in offing by Army Headquarters or Chiefs of Staff Committee secretariat, a meeting was called at AOR, which, along with CNS, CAS and acting COAS, was attended by the raksha mantri Shri George Fernandes, the principal secretary to the Prime Minister, Shri Brajesh Mishra; secretaries defence, home and external affairs were also present. The army briefed, in greater detail than before, on the situation obtaining across the Kargil sector. In a briefing which I gave personally, I covered the following aspects:

(a) If air power were used offensively, the escalation could be very rapid to any level and anywhere. The IAF needed to be prepared for every contingency.

(b) In the area under consideration and the air operating conditions obtaining there, the accuracy of air attacks would be comparable to that of the artillery.

(d) There was possibility of fratricide if own troops were in close vicinity of targets.

(e) Helicopter survivability in an offence role would be very low.

(f ) The IAF pilots have commenced air-to-ground firing practices at high altitude.

Shri Mishra said status quo be maintained. On 18th of May, the VCOAS and the DGMO briefed Prime Minister Shri Atal Bihari Vajpayee and members of the CCS. Present were home minister Shri L.K. Advani, raksha mantri Shri George Fernandes, external affairs minister Shri Jaswant Singh and principal secretary to the Prime Minister Shri Brajesh Mishra. Also in attendance were CNS, CAS, directors of Research & Analysis Wing and Intelligence Bureau. It was an exhaustive briefing. The VCOAS summed-up that the army was capable of bringing the situation under control, but required time. He assessed that offensive air support by helicopters will hasten the process of eliminating/pushing back the intruders.

I covered all the implications, as stated hitherto, and added the following:

(a) The IAF must have the freedom to use the fighters.

(b) Escalation, inclusive of pre-emptive hostile strikes, could take place suddenly anywhere across the Indo-Pak border/Line of Control.

(d) The IAF sought 24 hours to implement (c); if inescapable the time factor could be cut down by half.

The EAM desired to know what the army’s assessment in respect of the enemy’s intentions was. A satisfactory answer did not emerge. It was apparent the army had not applied its mind to this aspect; they were engaged in getting out the intruders without having quite established the nature of the intrusions or the identity of intruders. I felt strong sympathy for the Army Headquarters staff.

Having been caught off guard in the field, they were unable to make up for their initial lapse, due to inadequate intelligence and possibly indifferent involvement from the command headquarters.

The EAM went on to observe that bringing in the air force would internationalise the issue and it would be preferable not to let that happen. He was scheduled to leave for international visits, these he felt should not be disturbed. While he was away, Army Headquarters could get on with the job of establishing enemy’s intent. His recommendation:

do not involve the Air Force yet. PS to PM made the final recommendations:

(a) For the present, air power not to be used.

(b) Hot pursuit by ground forces to be permitted in the area of present operation, no-where else in J&K.

The Prime Minister nodded his approval. Earlier to the CCS meeting, on the same day, a contingency planning meeting had been held in my office with operations and maintenance staff of Air HQ and WAC. The state of IAF’s armament holdings, self-protection devices was reviewed. Directions had been given for actions required to be taken to improve the modification states of aircraft for carriage of armament, EW and specialised equipment.

Operational staff was required to tailor operating procedures specifically for the conditions under which we would have to support the army; training had to be intensified and suitably modified to enable pilots to operate at high altitudes, in restricted areas and engage ground targets much smaller than they were normally assigned. Maintenance staff was directed to accelerate activity to substantially improve availability of aircraft, radars, equipment and spares.

The most debated issue was in respect of strategy and tactics. The air force has long contended that use of air power in direct support of ground battle is its most inefficient utilisation; it should be used sparingly in this fashion, unless the ground troops are under intense pressure and the integral artillery fire power is limited, ineffective or not in position. Spot targets obtaining within the ground battlefield are small, not easily sighted and vulnerability of aircraft is high. Air power has a more devastating effect when applied against logistics dumps and their lines of supply to forward posts/areas. In this case, it was pointed out that if there were restrictions on not being allowed to cross the LoC, toss/stand-off bombing was possible. My directions were: be ready to operate under the worst conditions, our attempt would be to get freedom of action to the extent possible. The final word was to prepare for a bigger conflagration.

Over the next few days, the air force, besides continuing with logistical support to the army in the form of air/heli-lifting troops and supplies, carried out photoreconnaissance over operational area, undertook electronic reconnaissance missions to establish the deployment of Pakistan’s ground radars in the POK and else-where. The air force was also on the look-out for unusual air activity. By now we had realised that, if and when the air force was given the go-ahead, our bombing techniques, the bombs, fuses and the aiming computers/sights would all require to be adapted for the ultra-high altitude air-to-ground work. Both operations and maintenance staff had put on their ‘thinking-caps’ and rolled up their sleeves for finding ingenious solutions, and fast, very fast! Air Forces’ think tanks at ‘Tactics and Combat Development and Training Establishment’ and ‘Aircraft and Systems Testing Establishment’ were tasked for over-coming specific problems.

On May 21, a Canberra on a photo-mission was hit by an air-to ground infra-red homing missile, later identified as a Stinger. The pilot did a commendable job by recovering the crippled aircraft.

Realising that Canberra reconnaissance missions were vulnerable to ‘shoulder-fired’ AGMs, due to their heights of operation being well within the kill-envelop of these missiles, we discontinued them. Later, we brought in the MiG-25 strategic photo-reconnaissance aircraft to do the job of the Canberra. It was not a question of just bringing in a different aircraft. Its operating parameters and photo equipment had to be modified to enable it to do what was considered not possible, in fact dangerous, by the experts on the aircraft. The credit goes to Air Marshal ‘Jimmy’ Bhatia, then AOCin-C Central Air Command, for encouraging the unit and ‘leading the way’ by flying in the aircraft during trials.

I had to proceed to the Naval Academy to attend the valedictory function and review the passing-out-parade on May 21-22. As the COAS, Gen. Ved Malik, had returned from his foreign tour just the day before, I could not meet him before the 23rd.

The manner in which developments had taken place, from the time ‘Ben’ Brar gave me information of the army being in difficulty, troubled me. There had been total lack of army-air force joint staff work. When the army found itself in difficulties, information/ intelligence had not been communicated by Army HQ, in any systematic manner to the Air HQ. There had been no call for a joint briefing, leave alone joint planning, both at the service and command headquarters; just repeated requests for armed helicopter support. Air HQ seemed to have more information than WAC. How were the helicopters expected to be used? What was the threat? What were the objectives?

There are a number of issues that have to be considered by the army and air force, so that both sides appreciate the strengths/limitations of each other. Proper joint staff-work brings them out, allowing the decision-makers to give well-considered directions. There had been no joint deliberations at any level. As Ved Malik was not in Delhi, I put down my concerns in a letter to him on probably May 19.

After explaining what caused me to write the letter, I made the following observations:

(a) Use of combat air power, inclusive that by helicopters is an escalation in the existing operations.

(b) Before/after political clearance, concerned army/air force command HQs to be directed to present joint plan. The same to be done by Joint Planning Committee at service HQs level. Both plans to be presented to COSC.

(d) To avoid ‘being surprised’, COSC to be briefed on J&K situation regularly.

On May 23 afternoon, Ved Malik requested Sushil Kumar and myself to join him in his office. Ved was very cordial and warm through the meeting. I was happy that he did not look perturbed, particularly as he had reason enough to be, given the developments in his absence. His main thrust was that we needed to put up a united front to the CCS. Sushil and I had no difficulty in endorsing that. Ved said air force had to join in as the army was in a difficult position. I told him that there was no doubt of that and the air force was very keen to join in, my only reservation was in respect of the use of helicopters, they would be too vulnerable. Ved appeared to get agitated on my reluctance to use helicopters. I did not press the issue at that moment, it could wait till later.

On May 24, before proceeding for the CCS meeting, the three chiefs got together in the office of the CNS. I picked up the discussion about the use of helicopters with Ved Malik once again. I explained to him that in the Ladakh region, because of the pollution-free atmosphere the visibility is enormously better than what it is west of Zoji La. As the helicopters would have to approach enemy locations on the LoC ridge-line from the Kargil Valley, they would not be able to mask their approach and will be visibly picked-up by the enemy well before they come into firing range.

The effective range of the Stinger missiles is much greater than that of the rockets being fired by the helicopter. Ved was in no mood for any explanations. He shot back a question:

did I think that in his 40 years of service he had not learnt about helicopter operations?

Hoping to pacify him, I said even I do not think that I know all about helicopter flying.

The effect was just the opposite of what I was hoping. Saying, “If that’s the way you want it, I will go it alone,” he stormed out of CNS’ office. I caught up with him in the corridor and told him to cool off, he would get his helicopters. Wanting to save army-air force relations, I had given in against my better judgement!

At the CCS meeting, Ved Malik explained at length the difficulty of the situation and how essential it was for the air force to step in without delay. I stated as matter-of-fact as possible, that the air force was ready. We needed 24 hours to get going; we could cut down to 12 hours the time for first attack. The Prime Minister said we could meet again the next morning. Back at Air HQ, VCAS, ACsAS (Ops&Int) were briefed that the army was on shaky grounds and needed air force support without further delay.

We needed to ensure we will be ready to move in within 12 hours.

Early on May 25, the CCS convened again. The preliminaries were much shorter this time. The COAS was emphatic on getting air force support. I told the Prime Minister the army had to have air force support.

We could commence operations within 12 hours, 6, if inescapable. All eyes were on the Prime Minister. In his characteristically laconic manner, he said, ‘Theek hai, kal subah se shuru karo’ (Alright, start tomorrow morning). I asked for permission to cross the LoC while attacking targets on our side of the LoC. The PM straightened up in his chair and said firmly, ‘Please don’t cross the LoC. No, no crossing the LoC.’ ‘Sir!’ was all that was required of me.

The PM and others stepped out of the conference room silently, in a pensive mood.

Operation Safed Sagar is launched

On return to my office I shot out the following directions:

(a) The IAF will commence offensive air action after first light the next morning.

(b) Air Defence in the area of WAC to be activated as per HQ, WAC Operational Instructions.

(i) Aircraft not to cross LoC during attack patterns.

(ii) Air Defence aircraft escorting strike aircraft or ‘freepatrolling’ parallel to LoC, if engaged in aerial combat with enemy aircraft, may cross LoC in ‘hot’ pursuit. (At the CCS meeting I had not specifically got this contingency authorised, it was not the right moment to do so. But I considered the ‘liberty’ an essential element for the success of the aerial air defence measures. In view of the PM’s earlier ‘nod’ to the ground forces’ hot pursuit, my conscience was not unduly burdened).

(iii) No sudden or mass movement of aircraft.

(iv) To the extent possible all fighters and helicopters employed in combat role to be fitted with infra-red self-protection chaff-dispensers.

(v) Chaff-dispensing operating procedures to be re-briefed to all aircrew.

(vi) It is to be assumed that all enemy positions have infra-red air-to-ground shoulder-fired missiles.

(d) Air HQ’s Operational Order for Operation Safed Sagar be issued under my signature.

It would be close to 30 years since the IAF had fired a shot in anger. ‘Real Combat’ (too limited a skirmish to call it a war), as I said the words to myself, caused goose pimples to rise on my fore-arms. If this can happen to a grand-father, what would be the effect on young pilots, who still wondered whether the ‘wings’ that they wore on their uniform with an outward swagger, really belonged to them? Majority experience an adrenalinpumping euphoria, some brace themselves with a professional ‘let’s get-on-with-thejob’ attitude, some get sombre, a few might feel numbing fear. Both the extreme reactions need watching and counselling. There was a sudden, powerful urge to be with the guys, no, ‘my boys’. But would it be wise? Confidentiality was essential for what was to happen on the morrow. Go, I had to, it would be good for the field to know their chief was with them. I summoned my air assistant, Air Commodore Ajit Bhavnani. He was to get an AN-32 to carry a ‘special’ load to Srinagar immediately. The nature of ‘load’ would be disclosed later; he could come to the ‘Air House’ when the aircraft was positioned at Palam.

Later, when Ajit Bhavnani came to the ‘Air House’, his jaw dropped to see me beaming broadly in my blue flying overalls, with wing commanders’ tapes on my shoulders. “Lets go”, I said to him.

My wife, Molina, who had long taken in her stride my sudden ‘comings and goings’, was probably disappointed that I had not told her to pack a carry-on bag and come along, had not noticed anything unusual. The driver did not blink an eye-lid, he was looking straight ahead. He was possibly used to my some-time weird ways.

His face was dead-pan when I told him I would be taking the stand-by ‘Ambassador’, and not the trade-mark ‘Tata Estate’ of the CAS. No flag, no plates. None of my cars were embellished with a red roof-top light. Ajit was told at the last second not to come with

Staff officer was absent. Normally, the CAS boards his aircraft at the ‘VIP’ Squadron dispersal and is received by AOC Air Force Station, Palam. The captain of an AN-32 would be waiting at the ramp. My instructions were to have engines’ start-up commence as I approached the aircraft. As I strapped in to the captain’s seat, the pilot would brief me, while the co-pilot and engineer continued with the start-up. The navigator managed the radio. I would be taxiing out within five minutes.

As a prior take-off block was normally obtained, five minutes later we would be airborne. When a take-off time had not been ‘blocked’, the navigator would try to get priority for CAS, referred euphemistically as ‘IAF VIP’.

Well, this time an AN-32 for the ‘special load’ would be waiting somewhere on Palam’s large transit-aircraft parking apron.

Fortunately, there was only one AN-32 aircraft; no need for a try-tohit-the-right-aircraft-first-time anxiety. The driver was told to stop at the regulation point. I walked alone the distance to the aircraft.

The captain was slouchingly resting against the aircraft. He eyed me casually as I walked up. As I caught his eye, recognition suddenly dawned upon him and he sprang to attention, fumbling with his cap. I sign-indicated to him to relax, but it was not easy for him.

As I came within normal talking distance, with a broad and easy smile I told him to relax. Putting my arm casually around his shoulders, as friends do, I told him to act normal and continue at the normal pace, following normal procedures meticulously. He was not one of the several pilots who had flown with me often.

But I expected that he was aware his Chief, as a rule, liked to have his hands on the controls.

I asked him if he would mind if I flew, I was a qualified AN-32 first pilot. He was hugely relieved; he must have been wondering in which bucket-seat he was going to place the chief. I requested the pilot to brief me on the flight profile, procedures and emergencies. I wanted the captain of the aircraft to be at ease with the full confidence that he was in command of the aircraft.

My only direction to him at this stage was to ensure that nobody got an inkling that I was on board.

As we approached Srinagar, I told the captain to inform the Air Traffic Controller that AOC Srinagar may kindly personally collect a special packet from the captain of the aircraft, as he himself was not able to leave the aircraft. There were the expected queries and re-queries. But as we taxied in, I could see the AOC standing akimbo, with his dog on a leash, a picture of local top authority. When I walked down the ramp of the aircraft, the AOC had walked around to the back of the aircraft, doing nothing to mask his impatience. If the situation were not what it was, I would have burst out laughing to see a figure of authority instantly transform into that of a subordinate.

Senior air warriors are tough customers and the AOC recovered in seconds. As we walked to the waiting lounge, his dog had disappeared without my noticing.

Although it was evident to me that he had not received the ‘balloon-up’ communication yet, I had him confirm it. When I informed him that he was ‘On’ the next morning, he wanted to get on with his actions immediately. I told him to await the formal communication from his Command HQs. I could not possibly allow myself to give any conflicting information, leave alone direction.

But I was happy I had beat the ‘signal’. I knew Vinod Patney was a thorough AOC-in-C. His preliminary orders were already with his stations; he would ensure that the ‘begin operations’ operational order would be comprehensively drafted before issue.

I met the squadron commanders and some of the aircrew, not to give a pep talk, but to express my confidence that when the time came, they would do more than the expectations of the higher-ups.

They were straining at the leash to get going. Wishing them well and success, I returned. It was going to be a long night.

The Indian Air Force strikes

Came the 26th of May 1999 and the Indian Air Force launched its offensive solidly, attacking heavily with rockets fired from MiG-21s and Mi-17s going in waves. Imagine salvos and ripples of 192 rockets coming out of the ‘blue’ from one helicopter alone and they were four of them! Reports received from the Director General Military Operations (army) indicated that Tiger Hill and Tololing were engaged effectively. ‘Saddle’ attack did not appear to be as successful. There were ecstatic calls for more of the same. The initial euphoria is heady. Calmness is needed to avoid over-confidence. I was aching to send a word of caution not to get carried away. When the going is too good, my antenna tends to go into hyper-sweep. But I had to stay away, it was not my job to run the operation; I must give only broad directions.

The people who were running the show knew their jobs well. If there are lessons to be learnt they will do that.

The first air casualties

The excessive rejoicing after the first day’s successes turned out to be premature. Two waves of two MiG-27 aircraft each, with the necessary time interval between them were to engage the same target northeast of Batalik. The first section was successful in its mission and so reported it on their radios. The leader of the second section was unable to position himself for the attack and aborted it. Both attempted for the second time, but were again unsuccessful; however, the No 2 felt he had made a sighting of the target and made a third attempt, absolutely against the stipulated direction; such is young blood enthused with the determination to ‘press-on’ that they throw caution and the briefing to the wind! Apparently, he fired his rockets well outside the speed/‘g’ envelop stipulated for the weapon; as it is the aircraft were firing the rockets above the height to which they were cleared to be released. Wrongs do not add, they multiply.

The engine could not withstand the abuse and flamed-out. There was not a chance to relight. But the ejection seat did its job well and saved the life of the pilot, Flt Lt K. Nachiketa. His capture and later release had been so widely and extensively reported by the media that it need not be covered here. Despite his over-enthusiastic stupidity, he is a brave air warrior. After giving him a rap on the knuckle, his courage needs to be recognised; of-course the excess flow adrenaline needs to be controlled!

Squadron Leader Ajay Ahuja was tasked to do a post-attack target-damage photo-assessment. He had monitored Nachiketa’s ejection call and knew his general location. Such is the bonding in combat that one instinctively wants to help a comrade in distress, unmindful of his own predicament. Sending back his wing-man to safety, Ahuja attempted to locate Nachiketa’s place of landing.

Heavy with fuel and tanks a MiG-21 Type 96 requires careful handling at altitude and low indicated air speed. Loss of height is guaranteed to maintain speed. Enemy on the ground had plenty of time and chances to succeed once the aircraft had dropped to within the Stinger’s altitude envelop. ‘It’s good to treat others with your heart, but the head must not allow one to get carried away.’

Courageous Ahuja paid with his life for the folly of his misplaced kindness. Or is it a folly? Arjun needs the wisdom of Lord Krishna in the former’s struggle with life and duty. I love Ahuja-the-man; I want to shake the bones of Ahuja-the-professional warrior. A stinger got this brave Indian; the ejection seat gave Ahuja a second life, but he needed a third to survive the butchery of the enemy. May his soul rest in peace.

At the CCS meeting at the end of the day, while reporting to the Prime Minister and his colleagues, that the IAF had lost two aircraft (the fate of the two pilots was not known at that time), I assured the eminent gathering that while I was sorry to lose two fighters, I was not overly worried. The air force knew what had gone wrong, and knew what was required to be done to ensure we did not repeat the mistakes. But I expressed very clearly my anxiety in respect of the vulnerability of the helicopters.

The mission that broke the enemy’s back

The Nubra River is one of the most beautiful carriers of water, although it carries more sand than water. Flying through its short valley from the snout of the Siachen Glacier, to its confluence with the Shyok River, its sheer-high-cliffed banks within the confines of the Karakoram Mountains on the east and the Soltoro Range on the west, one experiences a strange mixture of serenity with hypnotic eeriness. I have flown a number of times through it, and the feeling has only intensified. I am somewhat embarrassed to disclose that I felt many times, that this is how it will be after one takes leave of Mother Earth.

On May 28, I got a call from MoD enquiring whether we had lost a helicopter. Nobody had even mentioned that a helicopter was missing. There was no information with Air Headquarters, HQ, WAC or AFS Srinagar. However, Srinagar reported that a four-helicopter-formation, with call-sign NUBRA was on a mission; it was yet to return. As radio silence is maintained by the helicopters from start-up to shut-down, the station would have the mission report only after NUBRA formation returned. In my mind’s eye the Nubra River kept popping up as I awaited the fate of the formation named after it. Later Srinagar reported that Nubra 4 had been brought down by a Stinger. Four gallant men, Squadron Leader Pundir (copilot),

Flight Lieutenant Mohilan (captain), Flight Sergeant Prasad (flight gunner) and Sergeant Sahu (flight engineer) lost their young lives. Nubra 3 flight gunner had witnessed the downing. Such was the presence of the media in the battle area that one perhaps, more so the channels, was reporting an air force casualty even before anyone in the air force had authentic information.

Nubra 4’s helicopter had not been equipped with flare-dispensers. As the unit had not been able to bring on line four suitably equipped helicopters, they had assigned for the mission one helicopter without the dispenser.

At the beginning of 1999, the smart bomb was a rare commodity with the IAF. Every one of the ‘heavies’ in this category had a specific assignment, inclusive of the reserves, in the plans for the ‘real’ thing.

There was no question of diverting it for any other purpose. The adaptation of the smart kits for the lighter bombs was under-way and required a lot of ‘tweaking’. But even in this category, despite adequacy of reserves, the air force philosophy was to use them only if the ‘dumbs’ could not do it within a given probability. We were confident that we had developed an effective dropping pattern, adjusted sights/computers/GPS to suit our purpose. We would use the ‘smarts’ sparingly, having the confidence of knowing we could always fall back on them. We were realising that the bigger problems were about intelligence on the location of the targets and converting army map grids into air force map references. If we had them right, we hit them straight. If you had the wrong intelligence or reference, even the ‘smarts’ were not smart enough to put that right!

Tiger Hill has become famously synonymous both as the challenge of Operation Vijay and the dominance of Operation Safed Sagar. The photograph of the laser designator’s cross on Tiger Hill and the laser bomb hitting the hill-top gives a very vivid impression what Operation Safed Sagar entailed: Peak of IAF’s professional elan. Personally, I do not need the photograph. The real thing is indelibly imprinted on my mind. I had witnessed it firsthand.

The Mirage 2000 mission tasked with engaging the enemy camp by a laser bomb, was accompanied by another Mirage 2000, a twin-seater, piloted by Wing Commander Sandeep Chhabra, to visually and photographically witness/ record the event. I used the opportunity to occupy the rear seat and get a feel of the attack. It would be a gross under-statement to say the experience was unforgettable!

The time of flight of the bomb is quite long, and the target has to be kept illuminated until the bomb hits the target. The attack pilot gave call of ‘tallyho’ when he had acquired the target.

There is some time lapse between ‘tallyho’ to ‘splash’, indicating bomb release; it seems much longer than it actually is, and one starts to wonder whether the attack pilot has lost the target. There is sense of relief when ‘tallyho’ call finally comes through. The relief is short-lived, for the suspenseful wait for the visual of target-hit gets you to grip something hard. You begin to wonder whether the bomb has missed the target. A hugely bright flash has your eyes transfixed on it. But you still wonder whether it’s a bull-eye or just a very close thing. What a joy to get the report, ‘bulls-eye’! Well done, mission accomplished!!

While Tiger Hill made the headlines, the mission that broke the enemy’s back, was the demolition of its major supply dump at Muntho Dalo. Over a 100 casualties are estimated, total destruction of the shelters and a huge loss of supplies. Here ‘smart’ bombs were not used, but smart ideas were used with smart equipment. The very highly magnifying telescopic capability of the laser-designating pod was utilised to locate the dump and dumb iron bombs were dropped accurately with some superlative piece of flying.

Locating a target being a big problem has been said again and again. The IAF certainly demonstrated that necessity is the mother of invention. An off-the-shelf Sony handheld movie camera was brilliantly used to study the terrain and locate the target. It remained a simple, but practical ‘tool’ throughout the Operation.

The innovation I consider as the biggest contribution to ingeniousness from Western Air Command was the use of the GPS for bombing under conditions that prevented use of normal equipment. With this technique, bombing was possible in poor visibility conditions, with an under-cast of clouds, even at night. Simply brilliant!

Conclusion

In the final analyses, it was brilliant leadership at all levels that brought about success. The air-officers-commanding-in-chief set the pace and their subordinates rallied to the call. No difficulty was a problem, it was a challenge to be overcome; and over-come they did, and in the process had enormous fun. I salute them all. We must not forget those that sacrificed their lives for our security. We have a duty to take care of their families and let them know they belong.

Many awards were dispensed, but by no measure were they enough. Many deeds may have gone unsung. The awards represent recognition of not only the air warriors that got them, but of people who were associated with them. Air Marshal Vinod Patney, Air-Officer-Commanding-in Chief Western Air Command, was outstanding in bearing the IAF Ensign for all of the Air Force. Recognition of his service as that of the very highest order does the IAF proud; his Sarvottam Yudh Sena Medals are deserved many times over.

This article is essentially about the IAF. I seek forgiveness for not having the space or timehttps://forceindia.net/archives/archival-article-week/operation-safed-sagar/ to write about the Army. It was the army’s leadership in this operation, we were only in support. Back to the Air Force then. Happy anniversary and welcome to the Platinum Year.

This article was originally published on Force.

‘Objective View’: India After Nawaz Sharif Calls Kargil War Islamabad’s Mistake

Sharif reiterated his claim that Pakistan had betrayed then Indian PM Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s trust, who had travelled to Lahore by bus in a gesture of friendship.

New Delhi: After former Pakistan Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif reiterated that the Kargil war was a mistake by Islamabad, India said on Thursday that it noted an “objective view emerging” across the border.

On Tuesday, Nawaz Sharif returned to his former position as president of the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz after a gap of six year. During the ceremony to mark his ascension, Sharif took potshots in his speech against “those who played a role in his disqualification in the Panama Papers case”, reported the Dawn newspaper.

He had given up the post of party president after the Pakistan Supreme Court disqualified him from office in 2017 for not declaring receiving 10,000 dirhams from a UAE-based company in his election nomination papers.

In his speech, Sharif spoke about the role of the judiciary and reiterated his claim that former ISI chief Zaheerul Islam had conveyed to him through a property tycoon that he should resign as prime minister.

Since the ceremony was held on May 28, Sharif then referred to Pakistan’s five nuclear tests in 1998, which was a retaliation for India’s nuclear tests conducted over two weeks earlier.

He noted that then US President Bill Clinton had offered $5 billion to Pakistan to not conduct the nuclear tests, “but I refused”.

Sharif then reiterated his claim that Pakistan had betrayed then Indian PM Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s trust, who had travelled to Lahore by bus in a gesture of friendship.

“Once Pakistan conducted five nuclear tests in reply to India’s [then Indian premier] Atal Bihari Vajpayee sahib came here and made a [peace] agreement with us … but we violated it and it was our fault,” Sharif told the PML-N’s general council on Tuesday.

He was referring to the signing of the Lahore Declaration on Sharif and Vajpayee on February 21, 1999. Two months later, the Kargil war broke out after Indian forces found that Pakistani army had infiltrated beyond the Line of Control. Sharif had always stated that he had had not been in loop over Pakistan army’s plans over the intrusion.

Two days later, the Indian foreign ministry spokesperson Randhir Jaiswal indicated that India had taken positive note of Sharif’s remarks.

“You are aware of our position on the issue. We note that there is an objective view emerging in Pakistan as well,” he said.

While the MEA spokesperson termed it as an “emerging view”, this was not the first time that Sharif had publicly said that Vajpayee had been betrayed by Pakistani establishment after his hand of friendship.

At a rally in February 2016 during his third term as Prime minister, Sharif said, “Vajpayee told me that he was stabbed in the back because of Pakistan’s misadventure in Kargil, especially during the process of Lahore Declaration. Vajpayee was right. I would have said the same thing – he was certainly backstabbed (in Kargil)”.

Then MEA spokesperson Vikas Swarup had even taken cognisance of Sharif’s words. “Nawaz Sharif has said something which was known to all. Everybody knew about it. He has only confirmed a truth which we all aware of,” he responded at a media briefing on February 18, 2016.

I Witnessed the Kargil War. That’s Why I Won’t Celebrate It.

A war correspondent writes about why he hates war.

This article was first published on July 19, 2019 and is being republished on July 26, 2022.

Like marbles on a slope, first the black pebbles roll down. They are followed by black rock and scree on the brown incline. The little rumble is muffled by the thump-thump of shells burying into soft cliffs behind.

The first of the casualties is about to be here, the stumbling stretcher-bearers have kicked off a small avalanche to warn of their imminence. The first of the stretcher-bearers, indeed the first casualty, is being brought down from Tiger Hill Top. Even as the bearers lay the stretcher on the hillside, a helicopter chops the air and the grass and flowers with its rotors, and touches down in front of this grey stoned primary school building by a rivulet. The bank of the rivulet is a school playground that is now the makeshift helipad for casevacs (casualty evacuations).

The patient is bundled into the small Cheetah helicopter, a derivative of the French-origin Alouette, and off she goes.

The casualty in tattered fatigues has a white cone of solid bone jutting from a red tear around where his left shoulder should have been. The cloth is drenched, the fatigues are dripping red, the bearers have bloodied hands and smears on their faces.

Then one of the stretch-bearers who is sprawled on the earth from exhaustion but remembers me speaking to his officer in the grey-stoned school gestures.

“Saabji (sir),” he beckons. “Dekhiye (see).”

He holds out his helmet.

It has two clean holes for entry and exit. The bullet aimed at his head has passed through it, between the inside of his netted fibre-glass headgear and the top of his scalp. Meaning, he had such luck that an enemy bullet aimed at his head tore through his helmet without grazing his hair.

In recalling the battle for Tiger Hill, on the 20th anniversary of the Kargil ‘war’, it should be noted that in those weeks this skirmish climaxed a 50-day event. Officially, the hostilities in Kargil in 1999 are still not recognised as a ‘war’. It is important however to draw lessons from collective experience. It is time to put paid to hype about a ‘fearless’ series of heroic stories and the gooey nonsense about ‘guns and coloured flowers’ surrounding what was essentially a ‘limited’ conflict and is even now not recognised as a full-fledged war.

There is nothing romantic while in a war. War is dirty, bloody, grimy, sweaty, urinary, shitty and bare-boned. All of it literally and at once.

Its stench lingers in the nostrils and in the mind for years. I am a war correspondent – I went on to cover Iraq and Afghanistan after Kargil – but I hate war.

The 20th anniversary of the Kargil War – the first cable-TV armed conflict, as it were – is celebrating all of that what is abominable.

Also read: Celebrating Soldier Deaths Isn’t Remotely Patriotic

We, people, I believe, are born at least to be humane. War is nowhere near human; it is alien to our nature. In the normal course of things, with disagreements to live by, we don’t slit one another’s throats and behead each other with khukris. We need to be possessed by an evilness to do so. Bloody battles like in Kargil inject that evilness.

The scene I have reported above, where a stretch-bearer showed his bullet-ridden helmet when the bone was sticking out of a soldier, was just outside Holiyal village in Mushkoh Valley at the base of Tiger Hill. The grey-stoned shelter was a desolate primary school tenement. It was chosen as an action station for the main unit that took Tiger Hill because it was not visible to the Pakistani gunners. The Pakistani shells flew over it and bored into a hill behind it.

In July 1999, I could not report to the newspaper I was then working for the names and the places of the incident because the officer who had hosted me was in the thick of battle. He was leading the 18 Grenadiers, I can report today. The ‘action station’ was the school in Holiyal village in Mushkoh Valley, where I had bara-khana – the ‘grand feast’ – the afternoon before the evening the soldiers set off to re-capture Tiger Hill.

Colonel Khushal Thakur, commanding officer of the 18 Grenadiers, later Brigadier, now retired, then told me (my newspaper) over an RT (radio transmitter) “we have reached Tiger Top, we are wrapping it up” the next day (July 4). Tiger Top was at around 15,000 feet. I was at about 13,000 feet. Col Thakur I guess at around 14,000 feet.

I met him quite by chance on one of many forays from Kargil to Drass (about 65 km though hairpin bends within sight of Pakistani gunners) and beyond to Mushkoh, like many reporters, looking for a story to dispatch. Most journalists, certainly the ones loaded with heavy cameras (TV), had made Drass their base. Mushkoh was beyond Drass. I was armed only with pens, notebooks and a satellite phone.

The editors of my Calcutta-headquartered newspaper then had given a week’s notice to get primed for the assignment. It is easier to get physically fit when one is 20 years younger.

Also, because I could sketch a bit and had had a record of meeting deadlines, the editors said there must be copy with graphics every evening. They armed me with a satellite phone that was to be shared with a colleague from a sister newspaper of the ABP Group. On more than one occasion, though, the immediate editor was too concerned for our well-being.

Telecom and the internet then was not what it is like today. Stories had to be sent in bursts like staccato. For a reporter, the sorriest situation is to have a story but one that cannot be despatched. The satphone was a blessing.

It so happened that the satphone networks were available only outdoors and that too for about 90 seconds per call within which we had to dictate copy. So D-Da, the editor I was reporting to daily, feared so much for my safety because of the ambient boom of the shelling that he often said, “Get into the shelter, forget copy, we’ll take agency.”

But what’s the point of being in the middle of a war if you cannot write about it?

Also read: Why Is India Still Ignoring Lessons Learnt From the Kargil War?

In the drives to Holiyal from Kargil (at a height of 90,00 feet), we went through Drass. It is 65 km from Kargil to Drass. The Mahindra Commander 4X4 I had hired from Leh was shared by Rajesh Ramachandran and Manish Swarup who were then with Hindustan Times, and Suman Chatterjee from the Bengali daily the Ananda Bazar Patrika. I was with the Telegraph.

On the night of July 3-4 when heavy artillery and Grad multi-barelled rockets fired from Drass while we were returning from Holiyal, Manish stepped out to capture pictures. The rockets were cutting through the night sky like a fast-bowler’s outswingers across the Himalayas, lighting the snow on the peaks in glows of amber. The Bofors 155mm guns were pounding in “direct firing mode” without an aerial observer. The hills above us were trembling. The ground beneath my feet quaked and quaked.

Manish was to be back in a couple of minutes because we were to move to Pandrass on higher ground, behind a hill from where we would get a ‘panoramic’ view of the events. When he did not, Rajesh went out to look for him. Rajesh was injured by shrapnel as he was trying to get into a bunker in Drass (56) brigade headquarters. We learnt the next day that he had been evacuated to Srinagar and then on to Delhi.

By this time we were east of Tiger Hill, west of Tololing. The war began turning for India from Tololing. Drass, which was known as the second coldest place on earth (after Verkhoyansk in Siberia) despite being on flat land, was directly below Tololing.

Between Tololing and Tiger Hill is Sando Nullah, through which, unknown to us then, a Gorkha battalion was one of a three-pronged attack, at the centre of which was the 18 Grenadiers.

The second-in-command of the 18 Grenadiers, Lt Colonel Viswanathan – a friend Colonel Khushal Thakur’s ‘2-IC’ – had fallen in Tololing on June 23. When I met them in Holiyal, his place was taken by Lt Col Paugham (I don’t know his current whereabouts) with Major Rajeev Kumar holding the base and the radio in the “action station”, the school in Holiyal over which Pakistani shells whistled.

Paugham had drawn a sketch in my notebook at the bara-khana to explain how the plan included an excursion through the exotically named “Pariyon ki Jheel (Lake of Fairies)” to the North West of Tiger Hill.

Also read: Remembering the Unforgettable Kargil War

That was also part of a plan to recapture a strategic height – Point 5353 – that India was unable to regain and even today continues to be in Pakistani possession. It probably has the best view of National Highway 1A that the Kargil incursion of 1999 by the “intruders” was aiming to interdict.

Let alone wars, even battles and skirmishes often are not conclusive. Kargil is one of a series. It has a history and a future.

The Kargil-Drass-Leh sector was targeted by Pakistan and Pakistan-backed forces in 1947-48 when India could not retain Skardu, then again in in 1965 and in 1971 when India captured and till today holds on to Turtuk near the Siachen south glacier.

With such histories that portend grim and bloody futures, the value of celebrating futile heroism – when bullets through helmets define luck – is questionable.

Sujan Dutta covered the Kargil War for the Telegraph.

The Truth About the Kargil War Is Bitter But it Must Be Told

Institutional failures, if left uninvestigated and uncorrected, inevitably come back to haunt the army and the nation.

Note: This article was first published on July 26, 2021 and is being republished on July 26, 2022.

On Vijay Diwas, which is observed on July 26 every year, glowing tributes are rightly paid to the soldiers who laid down their lives to ensure India’s victory in the historic Kargil War. But the nation also witnesses another drama of a different kind.

A lot of old Army generals, who never saw an artillery shell fall closer than two km, that too during demonstrations in firing ranges, as well as the likes of those who have seen snow only in Bollywood classics like Kashmir ki Kali and Aarzoo, emerge as great experts on TV channels. Some can even be heard yelling their lungs out. They heap praise upon themselves for ensuring India’s victory in Kargil and indulge in a lot of chest thumping from the safe confines of television studios. But the truth behind the fiasco that resulted in the loss of more than 500 Indian soldiers, and another 1,500 wounded during the war gets suppressed in the cacophony.

So, even as I salute those young men without whose bravery and sacrifice India could have never won the Kargil War, there is a dark underbelly to Kargil which must be spoken about.

The events which led to the Kargil fiasco, which I will go on to narrate in some detail in this story, are not classified. They are available as court records, information procured through RTI queries and from books published by those involved in the war, including General V.P. Malik, Major General Verma, Captain Amarinder Singh and a few others. In fact, all relied upon action reports supplied to them by General Malik, as also briefings provided at Army headquarters, in order to put together their books.

A reading of the Kargil Review Committee (KRC) report lays bare the details of how military decisions were taken at the highest levels vis-à-vis the intelligence inputs that were at hand. But the KRC report fell far short of providing the full picture.

The genesis of the Kargil War can be traced back to 1984, when India took control of what is known as the highest battlefield in the world: the Siachen Glacier. We preempted Pakistan and occupied the glacier on April 13, 1984, following Operation Meghdoot. Apart from India, Siachen is strategically important for Pakistan as well as China. Thereafter, to prevent the Pakistanis from doing the same to us in the thinly held area of Kargil, a division was specially raised by the Indian Army and deployed to plug the gaps.

The Pakistani strategy, therefore, was to again create gaps in Kargil, and to raise and train enough forces from locals from their side of Kargil and the Northern Areas. Their strategy was also to replace regular troops from ground-holding roles and use the regulars for capture of areas not held by India in Kargil. For Pakistan, a total secrecy in the military build-up was to be maintained over the years.

A memorial for soldiers who lost their lives during the Kargil War. Photo: PTI

In the early 1990s, Indian intelligence agencies detected that Pakistan had raised 10 Northern Light Infantry (NLI) battalions. The issue was discussed in detail between Military Intelligence (Military Intelligence Directorate) and Military Operations (Military Operations Directorate). During these discussions, it was agreed that these new raisings were intended to relieve regular troops from ground holding roles but how the relieved regular troops would be used was not vigorously discussed and left at that due to the bizarre logic that we did not have enough troops to counter that.

Pakistan resorted to two steps to create gaps in Kargil again. First, they kept the Kargil Sector absolutely quiet for years. Second, they inducted terrorists into the Kashmir Valley in large numbers. As anticipated by them, our generals reacted to the infiltration by moving the division specially meant for Kargil to the Valley. Kargil was left to the Kargil Brigade, with very large gaps.

Also read: I Witnessed the Kargil War. That’s Why I Won’t Celebrate It.

At this point, it would be pertinent to mention that in 1980, when I was company commander of the Kaksar Company in Kargil, Pakistan had intruded onto a height named Point 5108. I was tasked to capture that point, and was successful. The Pakistanis were evicted from Point 5108. However, in later years, India allowed this strategically important height to be occupied by Pakistan. There is no record of any inquiry about it even later. Pakistan also captured other features in the Kargil sector like the Dalunang Bunker Ridge and Sangruti, besides moving a long-range air defence gun to Point 5108 in a direct firing role. This gun hit our vehicle convoys on a stretch of about 14 km and made troop movement very risky and slow. We suffered many casualties there.

After taking over as Chief of Army Staff in October 1997, General Malik took certain decisions which belied military strategy and logic. These actions are all on record. He inter-changed the northern and southern army commanders, as a result of which both officers were new to their jobs. It takes about a year for an army commander to comprehensively study and assimilate all details of the area under his vast command, to understand the working style of his junior commanders, to explain his concept of operations and to project his military personality upon the command. These changes caused the greatest damage prior to the war. The northern army commander, who was transferred out, was thorough in his knowledge of the ground since he was, prior to this assignment, the corps commander at Srinagar and later the army commander. He had, in fact, ordered a standing regular army patrol to be deployed in the Batalik sector, which had the largest gap in the eastern part of Kargil. This patrol was, however, removed by the General-Officer-Commanding of Kargil Division, Major General V.S. Budhwar. When I took over the command of the brigade, known popularly otherwise as the Kargil Brigade, in June 1998, I was not even informed about this.

Further, the Director General of Military Operations (DGMO) was changed. General Verma, the DGMO, was made the military secretary and General Vij was brought in as DGMO. Battalions and battalion commanders were changed. Brigade commanders were changed. The deputy GOC was posted out and the new incumbent was sent on premature retirement during the war while a third one was brought in. Frontline company commanders were also posted out during the war.

The most important appointments – that of the brigade major and GSO-3, my principal operations staff officers – were posted out during the war. This resulted in the fact that every single important appointment – from army commander down to company commanders, and from DGMO down to brigade major and the GSO-3 – were new to their jobs during the crucial period of the Kargil War.

Furthermore, battalions that had been holding the gaps against Pakistan were removed thereby giving the enemy a clear and unopposed run. General Malik himself left for Poland when the war had already begun and the Kargil ammunition dump had been blown off. He did not return to the country until May 20.

Earlier, the corps commander had brought in a brigade to thwart enemy operations in Dras sector, where high-profile objectives including the Tiger Hill, Tololing, Mashkoh Valley, Point 5140 and Point 5608 are located. However, just before our attack was to be launched and the troops had already started moving, the COAS stopped the operation and ordered the brigade to move out of Kargil sector to the Kashmir valley. This is a fact that is recorded in the Kargil Review Committee report.

On taking over the brigade in June 1998, I conducted an extensive reconnaissance of the LOC and a detailed analysis of our own defences, enemy deployment, intelligence inputs, and the vulnerability of our own area. This revealed an enemy buildup and an enhanced threat perception which required a relook of defences and a re-prioritisation. Therefore, I briefed the GOC and also the COAS. A detailed report, including on the vulnerability of Tiger Hill and other heights was prepared and discussed with the division commander, Maj Gen Budhwar. He wanted the same to be war gamed, which was done, and he was briefed in detail sometime in September/October 1998. Instead of releasing permanent defence stores, he again directed me to give him a presentation at Leh, which I did. I asked for defences on Tiger Hill, Talab (which is ahead of Tiger Hill), Point 5608 on the LOC (a small southern part of it was the temporary post of Bajrang) and other locations in writing.

Also read: Kargil Vijay Diwas: Has The Army Learnt its Lessons?

A report was sent to the divisional HQ on January 30, 1999. But the division commander refused to release the necessary defence stores and equipment. Nothing was heard till the first week of May 1999, when these were denied in writing by the division HQ. At that time, my brigade and I were already grappling with the enemy.

Though I made written requests for aerial photographs, aerial photo flights and satellite imagery, these were never supplied. Helicopters that were meant to be located in Kargil were shifted to Leh and were not permitted to fly within 10 kilometers of the Line of Control (LoC). Since the helicopters were stationed at Leh, they had to cross Fatula Pass on their way back before 12 noon. As a result, we had just 10 minutes of reconnaissance time on the day they were made available. And they were rarely made available.

Again, no mines could be laid during the war as all mine marking tapes had been taken by the GOC to Leh for the purpose of marking the ground for renovation of the garrison there and for construction of the infamous zoo. Frontline fighting troops and technical support troops were not only ordered to catch animals and birds but also to build and fabricate cages for the zoo. Though there was no bar by higher authorities on firing of artillery, local restrictions had been imposed upon me. I was not permitted to use artillery, whereas Pakistan used its artillery to hammer us at will.

A memorial for soldiers who lost their lives during the Kargil War. Photo: PTI

The Leh Division did not have an Operations Order (Op Order). No one knew exactly what to do when it was required by everyone for executing their roles. There was no clear channel of communication with this division. During the inquiry, all that officers of the division could produce in terms of an Operation Order was a pencil-written draft by some GSO-1 Operations of 1991 vintage.

The Strike Corps were rendered ineffective as tanks had been mothballed (greased) and their crew had been sent to perform infantry and police jobs of road opening in the Kashmir valley. De-mothballing and marrying up of these troops require anywhere between one and two months. The then MGO confided to a journalist that the tank ammunition was down to two days of contact rate fighting.

Our only major communication centre housing the Tropo-Scatter was burnt in an accidental fire just before the war. The inquiry for this crucial loss, as also the inquiry regarding the blowing up of the Kargil ammunition dump, was hushed up as war losses.

The division which was raised for Kargil was temporarily moved out to the Kashmir valley for anti-terrorist duties thereby leaving wide gaps which were temporarily held by transiting battalions. The division was not brought back for its primary task of defending Kargil. Also, General Hukoo’s Division – he had earlier commanded the Kargil Brigade and was well versed with its details – which was a reserve for Kargil was not moved in despite being available. A new division was brought in its place which was not familiar with the area.

A brigade headquarter was moved in without any additional troops in September-October 1998 but not given any operational task for seven to eight months. It, in fact, remained totally idle near Leh till 20 days before the war. And after taking over full charge of Dras and Mashkoh areas, they were shifted out elsewhere, creating severe problems of command and control. This denuded the Dras and Mashkoh areas of any troops and reserves. It was only when the enemy had reached right on the Srinagar-Kargil Road that I, with my brigade major and staff captain, were sent there to stall their onslaught. And we did push them back to recapture important positions and restore unhindered movement on the Srinagar-Kargil Road.

Also read: Celebrating Soldier Deaths Isn’t Remotely Patriotic

The day on which the Kargil operations began, the Army Commander, Lt. General H.M. Khanna, was in Pune attending to his personal affairs. The corps commander, who was also in Pune for his wife’s surgery, returned immediately though. These are not normal events in the working of the army.

Another serious issue that can only be answered by those in charge at the time is why Point 5353, which not only dominates the Zojila-Kargil Road but also the alternative route from Dras to Kargil, was left with the enemy. Also, before I handed over charge, I had captured and established a battalion (minus) behind the enemy on Point 5140. However, this battalion, which was one of the greatest tactical achievements by us, was removed and the enemy allowed to occupy that. This is the topmost point of Tololing.

No general officer was ever held responsible for all these glaring ill-conceived decisions. All of these events, which weakened our effort (to use the mildest words) before and during the war, need serious investigation. The same mindset of brushing things under the carpet is one of the reasons why the Chinese were able to prepare, concentrate and move to Eastern Ladakh last year, occupying territory up to Finger 4 at Pangong Tso.

Though I was removed from service, there was no charge against me either in terms of professionalism, valour or anything concerned with fighting the war. In fact, I was praised in writing in my ACR (compiled after I was removed from the Kargil command). The action against me was only for making photocopies of letters which contained 68 pages written to General VP Malik and getting them delivered to my residence (my Ops. Room bunker). And, that I had got these photocopies delivered through a messenger instead of an officer. I am told that others also removed documents from the Directorate of Military Operations to make photocopies for their personal use in books, etc. For example, the Hindustan Times reported in 2012, ‘RTI reply hints at unauthorised use of confidential documents’. However, action was never initiated against anyone.

The Kargil War is now more than 22 years behind us. The corps commander has since died, while other high-ranking officials, including the army commander and his chief of staff, the DGMOs, the MSs, the DGMI, the divisional commander and other brigade commanders are already very old. A proper inquiry involving some of these old generals and others may reveal several issues. These revelations may have serious implications for the national security of India.

Much has been written about Kargil. But when the above-mentioned facts are considered, many of the claims made in support of how the war was handled fall flat. Along with the soldiers lost and injured, truth has been a casualty in this war.

I do not wish to blame anyone and have submitted all this information in the interest of the nation. Only an independent inquiry can point to the shortcomings of the military in the war. The criminal justice system of India is one of the most unjust. My case, in which I have challenged the treatment meted out to me by the Army, has been hanging fire for the past 20 years in courts, including for about 12 years in the Armed Forces Tribunal in Chandigarh. Unless the Chief Justice of India takes suo moto cognizance and orders an inquiry under the supervision of the Supreme Court, the truth and vital facts affecting the security of India will remain buried forever.

Surinder Singh was a brigadier in the Indian Army and commanded the Kargil brigade during the 1999 war with Pakistan.

Watch | CDS Rules ‘Flawed’; If Superceded, Serving Chief May Resign: General V.P. Malik

The former Army chief tells Karan Thapar that if a serving Lieutenant-General level officer is chosen as the CDS, it could open a can of worms.

In an outspoken interview where he pulls no punches, General (Retired) V.P. Malik – one of India’s most highly regarded and illustrious former Army chiefs – has said that the new rules determining the eligibility of the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) are “flawed” and agreed that potentially they could open a can of worms. General Malik, who served as Army chief during the Kargil War, said: “The CDS selection process should be credible, it should consider experience, it should consider exposure to politico-military affairs, and the functioning of the armed forces. If these parameters are met it should be alright. But I feel that in these new rules these parameters have not been convincingly met.”

In a 23-minute interview with Karan Thapar for The Wire, General Malik commented on the fact that if a serving Lieutenant-General level officer is chosen as CDS, he will be junior to the three service chiefs but as CDS he will be the permanent Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee and therefore, in that sense, senior to them. General Malik said: “This will cause uneasiness and affect their functioning”. More importantly, he said: “Some Chief may choose to resign,” adding that would be “very embarrassing” for the government.

General Malik said that rather than open the eligibility criteria to all serving and retired officers of Lieutenant General rank equivalent, provided they are under the age of 62 on the date of appointment, the selection should have been limited to the three serving chiefs and, under them, the Vice Chief, the army commander equivalent officers and, possibly perhaps, one or two Corps Commanders. He fears that by opening it to all serving and recently retired Lieutenant General equivalent officers you could see what he called “court cases” for not being considered.

The former Army chief said that the possibility that a Lieutenant General could be appointed CDS at the age of 60 but permitted to serve till he reaches 65 i.e. over 5 years is “far too long”. He said serving Chiefs (of all three services) and the CDS should be appointed for a maximum term of 3 years.

Asked if the fact that the rules governing the appointment of the CDS were being changed fairly drastically just three years after they were created suggests that the original structure was less than perfect or even flawed, General Malik agreed and said “indeed, it does gives that impression”.

The Business Standard, in an editorial, commented that whilst the three Service Chiefs are senior to the defence secretary, the CDS is also secretary of the Department of Military Affairs and, in that capacity, is the equivalent of the defence secretary. Yet as the permanent Chairman of the Chiefs of the Staff Committee, he’s senior to the Service Chiefs and, this, therefore, creates a messy and confusing situation.

Commenting on this, General Malik replied bluntly: “It’s flawed and not just messy and confusing.” He hopes that now that the rules have changed the new CDS will no longer be the secretary of the Department of Military Affairs and that responsibility will be passed to the Chief of Integrated Staff, who works under him.

General Malik was also particularly critical of the long delay of over six months in appointing a new CDS after the tragic death of General Bipin Rawat. As he said: “It’s not understandable that such a long delay should have happened after General Rawat’s death.” He added it has “not created a good impression”.

These are some of the important issues discussed in Karan Thapar’s interview with General V.P. Malik. Please see the full interview to understand both the depth of General Malik’s arguments and the strength of his analysis.

How the Article 370 Move, India-China Tensions and Erasure Politics Altered Kashmir Forever

Sumantra Bose’s ‘Kashmir at the Crossroads’ is an insightful and fascinating narrative that has succeeded in keeping the focus on the people of Jammu and Kashmir, notably those in the Valley.

In his preface to the 1997 book, The Challenge in Kashmir: Democracy, Self Determination and a Just Peace, Sumantra Bose, the well-known academic and expert on the Kashmir conflict, raises the question: “Why another book on the conflict in and over Kashmir? Hasn’t the vexed topic been flogged to death already?”

And then, unsurprisingly, given his deep interest in Kashmir, he has made 20 odd field visits to Jammu and Kashmir over the next quarter-century, and written extensively and sensitively on the Kashmir conundrum. Bose’s latest volume, Kashmir at the Crossroads: Inside a 21^st Century Conflict (Picador, India 2021), is a deeply-researched, brilliantly-articulated searing yet definitive narrative.

The mindscape includes the India-Pakistan bilateral, unfolding of the high intensity Kashmir insurgency (1990-mid 2000s), the Union government’s ‘shock and anger’ revocation of the state’s autonomy in 2019, transformational regional geopolitics and the China factor in Jammu and Kashmir.

‘Kashmir at the Crossroads: Inside a 21st Century Conflict’, Sumantra Bose, Picador, India 2021.

Post-independence decades

Bose traces a mind-boggling array of events and developments during the 1950s-1980s in intimate detail with his characteristic intellectual honesty and dexterity, starting with Kashmir’s special status (Article 370), the arrest of Sheikh Abdullah and rule through draconian laws among many others.

“Why was the harmonious Kashmir-India symbiosis fatally damaged,” he questions. It was because the Union government’s approach was to permit widespread corruption as an adhesive to bond Kashmiri society; select pliant leaders to do its bidding; initiate stealthy constitutionalism (28 Constitutional laws and 262 Union laws were made applicable to J&K) and allow massive rigging of elections.

He pinpoints the Union government’s dismissal of Sheikh Abdullah (1953) and then his son Farooq Abdullah (1984), the Rajiv-Farooq accord (1986) and the rigged elections (1987) as key reasons, among others, for the insurrection emanating from “four decades of Indian policies and actions since 1950s”. No wonder Pakistan was ready to harvest the consequential anger and alienation for its Kashmir strategy.

In the map of Jammu and Kashmir (after the preface) the line joining the grid reference NJ 9842 and Karakorum Pass to the north-east indicated as claimed but not de facto is factually incorrect. Because, as the author states in page 109, the India-Pakistan agreement on Line of Control (LoC) in 1972 “demarcated the line only up to NJ 9842… and the LoC was simply described as extending “thence North to the glaciers.”

Also read: ‘We Want to See His Body, His Face, One Last Time’: Family of Civilian Killed in J&K Encounter

High-intensity insurgency

In the manner of a political archaeologist, the author assiduously explores layers upon layers of unparalleled complexities and stakeholder dynamics to shine the light on the high intensity phase of insurgency that engulfed Jammu and Kashmir from 1990 until mid-2000s. “The carnage”, he thoughtfully avers, “is a grim lesson in the ruinous potential of nationalism, as Orwell defined it or rather, of nationalisms competing for supremacy – the state-led nationalisms of India and Pakistan and the state-seeking Kashmiri nationalism, which has as its epicentre among the Muslims of the Kashmir Valley.”

Bose quotes officially stated fatalities of 16,000 insurgents, 4,600 security forces personnel, 13,500 civilians, not counting 8,000 people who, as per Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons, remain untraced. Political initiatives and counter insurgency successes of security forces helped bring the high-intensity phase under control with fatalities reducing from about 4,000 in 2001 to an annual average of a few hundred over the past decade or so.

The enormous popular support for the resistance movement among workers, teachers, shopkeepers, doctors and lawyers and the public has been widely chronicled. But in a sombre reflection, Bose counsels, “These expectations of imminent freedom were desperately naïve…The response supported by virtually the entire spectrum of Indian political opinion was simply repression – of a scale and intensity that made the draconian police state of the previous four decades look positively benign.”

The India-Pakistan dynamic

The author analyses the India-Pakistan bilateral across a wide spectrum including nuclearisation, diplomatic openings, the Kargil War and the crisis of 2002 concisely and comprehensively. Clearly Pakistan’s repeated mass casualty terror attacks which came to Mumbai in 2008 constituted a severe bilateral setback. Terror strikes on the Pathankot Air Force base, Army’s Uri camp and later on the CRPF convoy in the Valley followed by IAF’s daring strike on the terrorist training camp at Balakot led to a starvation in bilateral dialogue, which still persists.

Bose endorses the peace process envisaged in the Lahore Declaration (1999) that resolving Kashmir is “in the supreme national interests of both countries”. “The Northern Ireland type of settlement finds favour “despite its new complexities arising from the UK’s troubled exit from EU”. Laying the conflict to rest through diplomacy and statecraft is clearly the only way forward.

Kashmir’s post-2010 decade

The author underlines how cautious hopes of the India-Pakistan peace process (2003-2007) – including the Vajpayee-Musharraf and Manmohan Singh-Musharraf 4-point Kashmir formula – which ran aground by the time of 26/11 Mumbai terror attack, gave place to a new phase of uprising wherein the youth pelting stones replaced the gun yielding insurgent. In this stone-bullet conversation, the state’s employment of pellet guns against agitators, especially during 2016, ignited even greater anger and alienation. Scores of citizens turned blind and over a thousand suffered eye injuries.

A group of youth pelting stones on security forces during an anti-militant operation at village Durbugh in Chadoora area of central Kashmir’s Budgam district, in March 2017. Credit: PTI/S. Irfan

In a pointed and chilling critique, Bose denounces “brutalisation of local society, particularly in the Valley. Entire generation has grown up and come of age in an environment of repression and violence…Despite the sharp decline of insurgency to negligible levels, the Valley remains a police state. The new generation is unwilling to put up with such a situation.” People chafe at the denial of everyday freedoms and civil liberties and also a media policy that makes “journalists and news organisations answerable not to their readers but to government bureaucrats and security officials with power to decide what news is fake or anti-national”.

Watch | ‘It Is Terrible to Be a Muslim in Modi’s India’: Farooq Abdullah

Reorganisation of the state

Driven by its decades-old ideological imperatives and an iron-fist Kashmir policy, the Union government, in a ‘brazenly unilaterist’ move, read down Article 370 and Article 35A and divided the state into two Union Territories of Jammu and Kashmir and Ladakh in August 2019. A heartless communications and movement clampdown in the state, additional induction of tens of thousands of security personnel and incarceration of political leadership across a wide spectrum preceded the ruling dispensation’s pitiless initiative.

Bose convincingly reasons, “Erasure of the state from the political map of India was a very deliberate act calculated to degrade the sense of self of the liquidated state’s people, and represents a much deeper cut than the revocation of hollowed out shell of Article 370.” A deep sense of anger, alienation and betrayal among people in the Valley is palpable. They strongly believe that Kashmir is a political problem that requires a political solution, and without a political resolution death and destruction would visit the Valley with increasing frequency.

Sustained peace and stability have evaded four generations of Kashmir and each one tells its story. As to the dozens of petitions pending in the Supreme Court for over two years, he observes in jest that “divine intervention was more likely than judicial intervention”. Today people of Jammu, Leh and Kargil are also substantively embittered: Jammuites fear loss of their land and jobs to outsiders, while people in Leh and Kargil lament that their local government has been rendered ineffectual.

The China factor

The author reminds us that China has always lurked in the background of the India-Pakistan Kashmir conflict. But following India’s drastic August 2019 Kashmir actions, it expressed serious concerns on this change of status quo exacerbating tensions and undermining China’s territorial sovereignty. Bose quotes reports on China’s Army blocking patrols in the Pangong Tso area within a month of creation of Ladakh as a Union territory.

Large scale Chinese intrusions in Ladakh during mid-2020 followed by its mobilisation of tens of thousands of troops are a pointer to China’s new assertiveness. India too had to respond in a commensurate measure. “Regional geopolitics”, Bose avers, “is becoming explicitly trilateral.” He goes on to prognosticate that the “quadrilateral geopolitics of the 21st century Kashmir conflict – India-Pakistan-China-America – will play out not just during the tenure of the Biden administration, but over the rest of this decade.”

Kashmir at the Cross Roads: Inside a 21^st Century Conflict by Sumantra Bose is an admirably crafted, exhaustively researched and vividly recounted introspection on the Kashmir issue, with its myriad complexities. An insightful and fascinating narrative has succeeded in keeping the focus on the people of Jammu and Kashmir, notably those in the Kashmir Valley. The book offers a deep insight into how the Indian government’s August 2019 reorganisation of the state, the current India-China tensions and changing regional geopolitics could lead to the transmutation of the Kashmir issue.

Air Vice Marshal (retd.) Kapil Kak is part of the Track-2 process on conflict resolution and peace-building in Jammu and Kashmir.

Are We Well-Informed About the Country’s Periphery?

The India-China conflict in Ladakh has shown that the national media’s range of sources vis-à-vis the country’s geographical periphery is narrow.

Nearly two decades after the Kargil War, the prolonged standoff with China in eastern Leh has catapulted the remote Ladakh region into the limelight once again. The news media took several days after the initial clashes to figure out the geography of the region. This reminds one of the June 10, 2015 edition of a leading English daily that carried a news report on a “surgical strike” along the Indo-Myanmar border. The actual site of the strike was a few hundred kilometres south of the location shown in the map accompanying the report.

The other noteworthy aspect of the media coverage of the developments in Leh is its overreliance on retired army officers, rather than journalists, academics and retired civil servants. The long response time of the national media and the narrow range of its sources vis-à-vis the country’s geographical periphery is particularly problematic in instances where the government does not share adequate information. Such instances bring into sharp focus the information deficit vis-à-vis the country’s strategically important geographical periphery that suffers from a sustained democracy deficit and economic hardships. The recent experience of Ladakh is revealing in this regard.

The government introduced unprecedented changes in the constitutional status and administrative organisation of the erstwhile state of Jammu and Kashmir. The Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act, 2019 separated Leh and Kargil districts from Jammu and Kashmir to form the Union Territory (UT) of Ladakh. The almost irreversible reorganisation will have far-reaching consequences. For instance, it has reinvigorated the debate in Pakistan on the constitutional status of Gilgit and Baltistan (GB) and also allegedly precipitated the latest round of Chinese belligerence along the Line of Actual Control (LAC). It is not clear though if the reorganisation is informed by a careful consideration of the complexities involved. Most channels of information that feed the government and public debate seem to be clogged.

Just like the media, the government too continues to fumble with the region’s geography. The weather bulletins of Doordarshan have started to cover Pakistan-occupied territories. The bulletins begin with Gilgit and then move on to Leh, Muzaffarabad, Srinagar, Mirpur and Jammu, skipping the crucial region of Baltistan.

Further, the new political map of India, the 8th, 9th and 10th editions, issued by the Survey of India territorially includes GB in Leh district of Ladakh. Earlier editions respected the historical administrative and cultural boundaries of Gilgit and Ladakh, but these are overlooked in the revised map. Interestingly, the revised map does not erase the internal boundaries of the Pakistan-occupied part of the UT of Jammu and Kashmir. If for some reason the Pakistan-occupied part of the UT of Ladakh must be included in one of the districts on the Indian side, at least, the territory adjacent to Kargil should have been included in that district on historical and cultural grounds.

New map of the UTs of Jammu and Kashmir, and Ladakh. Source: GOI

Serious consequences

The cartographic confusion has serious consequences. As per the 1995 delimitation, the legislative assembly of the erstwhile Jammu and Kashmir had 111 seats, out of which 24 were left vacant “until the area of the State under the occupation of Pakistan ceases to be so occupied and the people residing in that area elect their representatives”. There were 100 seats in the assembly including 24 vacant seats between 1975 and 1995 and 25 vacant seats before that.

As per the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act, 2019, all the 24 vacant seats, including the seats of GB, belong to the UT of Jammu and Kashmir. This creates an anomalous situation because GB falls in Jammu and Kashmir for legislative and electoral purposes even though it is part of the territory of Ladakh, which does not have a legislature.

As discontinuing GB’s representation would have diluted the claim to the disputed territory, the government seems to have devised the clumsy solution of mapping GB to two different UTs. This solved one problem but created another, as now the people of Ladakh are denied a right that has been notionally extended to GB. Government sources of information on Ladakh’s demography such as census are as muddled as the maps. In short, the regular channels of information are not in a good shape in Ladakh. The same can be said about other peripheral states such as Nagaland.

Other sources of information for the government such as intelligence agencies and the bureaucracy are either not able to provide reliable inputs, or policymakers are not agile enough to act upon the inputs. This has been evident through the government’s delayed response to the “unexpected” Chinese belligerence along the LAC and the equally “unexpected” call for a boycott of elections in Leh.

Also Read: Why the Delimitation Exercise in Jammu and Kashmir Calls for Caution

The intelligence failure needs to be judged against the Bharatiya Janata Party’s 2014 Lok Sabha manifesto that promised a three-tier reform to “overhaul our intelligence set up”. First, it stressed the need to “gearing it [the system] towards collecting real time, specific and actionable inputs.” Second, it emphasised the need to make the National Security Council “accountable for real-time intelligence dissemination.” Third, it appreciated the need to “insulate intelligence agencies from political intervention and interference.”

Given the shortcomings of official sources, civil society and faith-based organisations, journalists and academics from the periphery could be tapped for inputs. Due to their small population, Ladakhis have minimal representation in national-level organisations. There is not much social scientific research on the region either. The reach of the national media is circumscribed by the absence of permanent correspondents, limited air connectivity with the national capital, skewed location of the airport and poor road connectivity.

Soldiers load an Indian Air Force’s Chinook helicopter with supplies at a forward airbase in Leh, in the Ladakh region, September 15, 2020. Photo: Reuters/Danish Siddiqui

Even political channels are unreliable

Political channels of information become important under these circumstances but even these are unreliable. Most peripheral states/UTs have one representative in each house of the parliament, who invariably belongs to the ruling party or its ally and is unable to take an independent stand.

When Ladakh MP Jamyang Tsering Namgyal addressed the Parliament on Article 370, he rightly pointed out that Kargil was not restricted to the market in the district headquarter. He mentioned several villages and towns of Kargil district where there was widespread support for the proposed change in Ladakh’s political and administrative status. It is not clear if his party noted that he mentioned only select areas rather than present an unbiased sample of opinion from Kargil. In other words, the government does not have access to unbiased political inputs either, which perhaps explains why it failed to grasp the seriousness of the demand for Sixth Schedule status in Leh and anticipate an all-party boycott of hill council elections in the middle of flare-up along the LAC.

Given the dismal state of official and non-official sources of information on the periphery and the media’s focus upon conflicts and mega-infrastructure projects catering to national security, our public debate is dominated by security experts. The narrow range of inputs to the public debate relax the accountability of the government to the people in the periphery and we are surprised when things go wrong. It is time that both the government as well as the media and academia addressed the information and understanding deficit in our public debate on the country’s geographical periphery.

The author teaches economics at Azim Premji University, Bengaluru, and is co-author of Numbers in India’s Periphery: The Political Economy of Government Statistics, Cambridge University Press (2020).