Art and craft of military history…

Harish Khare

From the very beginning of our journey as a nation-state, we have called upon our armed forces to defend our territorial integrity and national interests. Within a few weeks after Independence in August 1947, our brave soldiers were sent to Kashmir to clear the place of the marauding raiders from Pakistan. The new nation was literally consecrated in their sacrifice, under those tryingly adverse conditions.

From the first Kashmir war to the recent Doklam standoff, India has had to fight many wars or near-wars. Each time, soldiers — jawans and officers — rose to the occasion, making the supreme sacrifice in defence of mother India.

Indeed, that, from time immemorial, has been the soldier’s sacred duty. Each nation finds ways of honouring and remembering its soldiers and warriors; each nation also devises a history, centred round its soldiers’ valour and bravery. Each nation also encourages and nurses historians, chroniclers, novelists, poets, bards, essayists, screenwriters to preserve the soldier’s sacrifice, and to create a drama, myths, mysteries and aura around the battlefield gallantry. Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace shall remain the greatest specimen of military literature.

We in India have been somewhat slow to recognise the importance of this genre. It is difficult to recall any work by an Indian general or historian that stands out in our popular literary imagination. Perhaps, the only exception remains that wonderfully moving song Aiy mere vatan ke logo, zara aankh mein bhar lo paani rendered so evocatively and poignantly by Lata Mangeshkar.

It was, therefore, an inspired idea of the Punjab Chief Minister, Amarinder Singh, to organise a military-literature festival in Chandigarh. But, then, Captain Sahib, is perhaps the only political leader in India who has smelled the gunpowder on the battlefield; not only that, he is also a respected military historian in own right, as we know from a number of books he has authored. The Chief Minister’s interest, participation and patronage were equally matched by those of the Punjab Governor, VP Singh Badnore.

We at The Tribune were happy to partner the enterprise. The event saw a gathering of some of our thoughtful officers, talking knowledgably about complex issues of defence and national security. There was civilised conversation, rather than screaming bouts that pass for debate on our so-called national channels. 

This was not a commercial enterprise, as most of the “lit festivals” have become, where books and authors are hawked, a controversy deliberately created and intolerance displayed.

The Lake Club on the scenic Sukhna Lake provided the perfect setting. While it was good to see so many retired officers who have made the Tricity their home, it was even more heartening to see that an effort had been made to involve the public, especially the school kids. And, then, there were bookstalls, well stocked with military history books. 

Friday night, the Chief Minister’s dinner was an agreeable evening, and it was good to see so many friends from outside Chandigarh.

We do not have the happiest of civil-military relationships in our country. The uniformed brass nurses a cultivated surliness, bordering on distrust, of the political leadership. I believe that the relationship got soured from the early years after Independence because of an American intellectual intervention. Those were the days of an intense Cold War and both the American and the Soviet blocks were keen to create zone of influence in India. That was the time the American State Department was spending enormous amount of ‘research’ funds and grants to influence priorities and prejudices in our academic and journalistic fraternities. Throughout the newly liberated countries in Asia and Africa, the American preference was for strong men as rulers — and, only the armed forces could provide such “men on the horseback.” That preferred model of leadership ran aground in India. Under the Mahatma’s inspiring leadership, the Indian democratic discourse had acquired a moral authenticity and there was simply no scope for an “Ayub Khan.” 

Nonetheless, the American lobby was able to introduce a sinister narrative: Jawaharlal Nehru was hostile to the armed forces; (b) and, that he was afraid of General Cariappa; and, (c) that he feared that the soldiers would do a ‘coup’, and (d) therefore, the armed forces were denied their due share in national resources and importance. This ‘Nehru-hostile-to-Army’ leitmotif acquired a life of its own after the 1962 war with China. And, in the new India, it is the part of our official theology. 

Perhaps, we shall do well to take a deep breath and ponder the fate that has befallen Pakistan — where the faujis call all the shots. 

The death early this week of Shashi Kapoor was felt personally and deeply mourned by my family. He and his wife Jennifer were very good friends with my in-laws. In fact, whenever I met him, he would mock deference due to a son-in-law to me.

Starting with The Householder, Shashi acted in many films — produced by Ismail Merchant and directed by James Ivory — based on my mother-in-law’s novels. She used to recall that when she first met Shashi as a possible choice for the lead role of “The Householder”, she thought he would just not do, he was simply too handsome. But, under the gentle ministration of director James Ivory, Shashi turned out to be fine, indeed perfect, personifying the anxieties and insecurities of a middle-class teacher in the early years after Independence. 

He was a wonderful company over dinner; unfailingly cheerful and courteous. And, he was a truly international artiste. Unlike most ‘popular’ heroes from Bollywood who are content to work with mediocre scripts and mediocre directors, Shashi was unafraid to pit himself against a cast of accomplished global actors and actresses. Perhaps, it mattered that he was married to an English woman, an accomplished theatre personality, and that partnership gave him a new confidence. 

Before he introduced the “neech” word into our national discourse, Mani Shankar Aiyar can claim the intellectual satisfaction of having injected two other abusive words in the Indian political lexicon -- cretin and limpet. He had used these unkind words against ageing Opposition leaders like Chaudhary Charan Singh and Babu Jagjivan Ram, among others. He was an aide to Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, who was young, handsome and had all the arrogance that accrues to anyone who commands a majority in the Lok Sabha; and, Rajiv had more than 400 seats and Mani had the licence to belittle and vilify the Opposition. 

Mani has always had a foul mouth. During the Rajiv years, he was made to feel encouraged and empowered to berate anyone who dared to question the stupidities and follies of the young Prime Minister. Since then, it has become his USP and has only asset. 

He would gladly badmouth anyone and everyone who did not accommodate him. He has a gift of making a nuisance of himself. Once when he was out of favour, I heard him use the choicest of expletives about Mrs Sonia Gandhi. Soon, he was out of the doghouse. He had made a terrible union minister during the UPA-I days and had to be dropped from the Manmohan Singh Cabinet. In UPA-II, he went about belittling and ridiculing the government till he was nominated to the Rajya Sabha in March, 2010. That was appeasement and among the first mistakes the UPA-II was to make.

He has had his uses to the Congress First Family. The leadership can now repent at leisure for giving this essentially disagreeable man such a long rope. Mani has now met his match in Modi. 

Surely, Mani is never going to get an invitation to come and have a cup of coffee. But, you, ladies and gentlemen, are most welcome. Join me.

[email protected]