By Maj Gen Sukhwant Singh
01 Jul , 2015
As in other Eastern countries, the Indian public is easily swayed by sentiment. Important issues are taken to the streets instead of being debated calmly. Slogan-shouting crowds are used by political leaders to build-up public opinion on issues of the moment. Even the news media lend a hand with subjective reporting and comments. Under such conditions, a government may sometimes be forced into a corner by vociferous public opinion and commit itself to a course of action it may later repent.
This happened in 1962 when, to placate public opinion, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru ordered the Army to take on the Chinese. A supine Chief of Army Staff obeyed, though he knew he hardly had a chance of success. Fortunately for the Army and the country, India had a strong Prime Minister and an equally strong Chief in 1971.
Mrs Gandhi had won the parliamentary elections held early that year with a thumping majority. She was known for her boldness and political astuteness. Gen Manekshaw had acquired a stature that none of his predecessors except Thimayya had. He possessed rare professional acumen and was extremely popular with officers as well as troops. His greatest asset was that he could stand up to people.
Fortunately for the Army and the country, India had a strong Prime Minister and an equally strong Chief in 1971.
This quality stood him in good stead when the Indian public, agitated over the mass killings and other excesses of the Pakistani Army in Bangladesh, began to urge the government that the Indian Army should immediately march in to liberate that oppressed land so that the Bengali refugees could go back to their homes.
Pressure increased when the revolt failed. Some retired generals and several cabinet ministers also joined in the cry for immediate liberation. But Manekshaw was not the man who could be stampeded into action. As mentioned earlier, Government had directed him to assess the situation and draw up contingency plans and his experts were on this job. He advised the Prime Minister against immediate military intervention and she accepted his advice.
Manekshaw was not the man who could be stampeded into action… He advised the Prime Minister against immediate military intervention and she accepted his advice.
Immediate intervention was inadvisable for many reasons. A nation cannot make war successfully without proper preparation. That needs time. Military planners have contingency plans, but these have to be updated to meet the changing situation. Many questions face them. For example, what is the enemy’s strength and how is it disposed? What are the options open to him? Who are going to be our allies and who will side with the enemy? What is the time frame? What is the state of communications and what is the terrain in the area of operations? What is the state of our own forces and their equipment? Have we the necessary superiority? If not, how can we arrange to tilt the balance in our favour in the strike area? There are many other factors such as weather conditions and the attitude of local people that have to be taken into consideration by the planners. Some of the answers lay with the politicians.
By the middle of April, Pakistan had three infantry divisions in the eastern wing. It was also raising another division (36th) and enrolling large numbers of paramilitary forces such as EPCAF, Razakars, Mujahids and Ansars. India therefore had to muster six or seven divisions to get the necessary numerical superiority. Normal contingency plans required the presence of only about one division in West Bengal to ensure the security of the Siliguri corridor and Calcutta. The rest of the troops would have to be found by partly drawing upon reserves and partly by temporarily withdrawing some formations facing the Chinese in the eastern sector and those employed in a counter-insurgency role in Nagaland and Mizoram.
A nation cannot make war successfully without proper preparation.
Though there had been no open hostilities with the Chinese after 1962, except for an artillery duel in 1967 around Nathu La, India could not be sure of China’s attitude if we went to war with Pakistan. That country’s leaders had consistently wooed China and had been receiving assurances of friendship and considerable aid in weapons and equipment. In the 22-day war of 1965, China had issued an ultimatum to India and had moved some troops threateningly, but had refrained from intervention.
Sensing the likelihood of war over Bangladesh, Pakistan’s rulers had been at great pains to cement their friendship with China. At the military level, Indla’s planners proposed to neutralise the Chinese threat to some extent with a winter campaign, when the passes connecting India and Tibet would be snowbound. But the Chinese would still have some potential for intervention. At this stage, the politicians came to the rescue with the Indo-Soviet Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation. The clause on mutual help in case of aggression1 was intended to deter the Chinese in case they wanted to come in on Pakistan’s side.
India had to muster six or seven divisions to get the necessary numerical superiority.
Another question that was purely political was the justification for a campaign. Could India arrogate to itself the right to walk into East Pakistan to evict the Pakistani Army and set up a democratic government there? It could claim that it was doing so to send back the 10 million refugees who had been sitting on its doorstep for many months. But would international opinion accept such justification? The answer lay in :
projecting India’s case to the world community so that international opinion could force Pakistan’s rulers to instal a government of the elected representatives of the country in Bangladesh; and.
leaving the commencement of hostilities to Pakistan should it choose to decide the issue by force of arms.
“The politicians came to the rescue with the Indo-Soviet Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation.We have already spoken of the action the Indian Government took to put India’s case before the world. In regard to Pakistan’s options for military action, even a layman could see that its potential for an offensive lay only in the west. With the resources at its disposal, it was in no position to launch one from Bangladesh, though the possibility of large-scale forays was there. Hence the Indian planners had to provide for containing a Pakistani offensive in the west.
India’s experience of international reactions in the 1965 Indo-Pakistani hostilities had been quite disconcerting. While no one lifted a finger when the two countries were heading for a collision, many jumped into the arena to separate the combatants once the fighting started. The ceasefire that resulted from this intervention did not bring lasting peace. This time, India did not wish to face a similar situation. There had to be a decision before the peacemakers could come in or any possible allies of the enemy could sway the issue. It had therefore to be a short war and a time frame of three weeks was laid down.
After Tikka Khan’s Operation Blitz, the Pakistani Army in the east was busy in May consolidating its hold over the country. Though the Pakistanis achieved some success in this, Yahya Khan did not follow it up with any political measures to instal a democratic government in the province. All he did to placate Bengali sentiment was to appoint Dr A.M. Malik as governor in place of Tikka Khan. This move did not mollify the Bengalis as Niazi was at the same time made Martial Law Administrator. Real power lay in his hands.
Could India arrogate to itself the right to walk into East Pakistan to evict the Pakistani Army and set up a democratic government there?
With the onset of the monsoon the threat of a preemptive strike by Pakistan had receded. Though the rains in Punjab are not as severe as in B: ngal, the sodden plains do not permit the deployment of armour. Even other transport cannot move off the road till the ground dries by mid-September. India therefore got a breather.
No country can afford to be in a state of preparedness for war at all times. The cost would be colossal. All that can be done is to have updated contingency plans, and to deploy the available resources judiciously. Manekshaw, Chief of Army Staff at this time, also functioned as Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee. He had been Chief for about two years. In the process of making the Army battleworthy, he had become aware of its strong points as well as its shortcomings. One of the reasons for his recommendation against immediate military action was the Army’s shortfalls in preparing for war, and he started to remedy them straightway.
It had therefore to be a short war and a time frame of three weeks was laid down.
In all democracies, more so in India, it is generally the habit to economise on defence expenditure in peace. Since it is difficult to make drastic cuts in the recurring establishment charges of a large standing force, the axe usually falls on reserve holdings of equipment and ammunition, stockpiled to sustain a war of a visualised duration. The erosion of reserves lowers the level of holdings in peace and recoupment becomes very difficult in case of war. Production has to be geared afresh both in the private and public sectors for items manufactured indigenously. This often takes a considerable lead period, especially when supplies of raw material and power are so sluggish and uncertain, with attendant labour troubles and other constraints. Much greater difficulty is confronted in procuring items of foreign manufacture.
Equipment held by underdeveloped countries like India is usually obsolescent if not actually obsolete. Its manufacture has usually been stopped by the supplying countries, and their inventories have usually run out of complete equipment and spares. The required items can usually be procured from private concerns dealing in junk, or those with limited manufacturing capacities, or from third countries still holding the equipment. Since the selling parties are generally aware of the pressing need of the buyer, the prices quoted are generally exorbitant. The time required for scouting, entering into international contracts and for transportation is long, and these delays are reflected in the preparation schedules.
Such last-minute hurry can be avoided by systematic turnover and recoupment of inventories with a continuous flow in the pipeline. This requires planned and timely allocation of funds in the defence budget, but unfortunately this is not done. In April 1971 the Army’s reserve holdings were generally low, enough for approximately 60 days in common-run items and considerably lower in those which were critical and in short supply. One of the first acts of Manekshaw as Chief was to see that the reserves were made up expeditiously. The entire government machinery was geared to step up production and procurement to achieve this in the shortest possible time.
The next action was to make units and formations fit for war, and he applied himself energetically to this task. Making up their deficiencies in manpower, equipment and ammunition became difficult as a major reorganisation and reequipping of the Indian Army was then in progress, especially in the Armoured Corps and Artillery. Some units were under raising, others were converting to newly introduced equipment, and yet others were getting familiar with specialised equipment.
The Army had been equipped with a heterogeneous mixture of equipment and ammunition. Some of it was from Western countries, received during and after the debacle in 1962. Some had been recently procured in the Soviet Union and other East European countries, and the rest had been produced indigenously. This equipment was spread indiscriminately as the units and formations were equipped as and when equipment became available and frequent change overs had taken place. Urgent rationalisation of equipment holdings, first theatrewise and then formationwise, was essential to fascilitate administrative and repair backing.
Equipment held by underdeveloped countries like India is usually obsolescent if not actually obsolete
Rationalisation was ordered in good time and was over by the end of August. Rationalisation of stockpiling General Staff (GS) reserves of equipment and spares backing needed more time. After the rationalisation of equipment, the GS reserves were also so placed that replacements and spares were available to the demanding unit at short notice, and a steady flow in the pipeline in time of expenditure was ensured on systematic feedbacks.
Placing ammunition stocks presented certain difficulties, especially of imported varieties because the required quantities were not available. Although some stocks were under procurement abroad, these could not be counted as assets till they actually landed in the country. Items in short supply were proportionately distributed in such a manner that the immediate requirements of a short and intense war would be met in the battle zone, at least in the initial stages. Replenishment was to be controlled by planned expenditure. The redistribution was completed surreptitiously by the middle of October under cover of monsoon and winter stocking, and it served the war well.
The next action was to make units and formations fit for war, and he applied himself energetically to this task.
In weapons and other equipment there were critical shortages in unit holdings, and a considerable backlog in their repair because spare parts were short. The situation became more acute when after an armoured formation exercise it was found that 70 to 80 per cent of its tanks needed repair. This needed a major repair organisation to get them back into service. The work was taken up on a war footing and the manufacture of indigenous tanks was temporarily stopped to expand the production of spare parts. Wishing to show greater production of complete units, the management of the factory had starved users of spares. This anomaly was redressed, and the manufacturer and the repair organisation made a coordinated effort to make the damaged and defective tanks battleworthy. This was achieved in good time, and Manekshaw personally presided over meetings of the coordinating committee to give it an extra fillip.
In the earlier conflicts of 1962 and 1965, many formations were thrown into battle with units with which they had not trained before, and this accounted for some of the setbacks they suffered. The annual changeover of a proportion of units from operational to non- operational areas was largely to blame for this. Almost one-third of the fighting strength gets shifted and changes formation affiliations in peace. This changeover means the induction of one–sometimes even two–new infantry battalion into a brigade and the withdrawal of an equal number. But the system is accepted as a necessary evil as it gives the jawan a chance to serve in a family station with his wife and children.
Items in short supply were proportionately distributed in such a manner that the immediate requirements of a short and intense war would be met in the battle zone, at least in the initial stages.
The Chief did not however want the annual turnover to affect the conduct of operations he was planning. Accordingly, the change over programme for 1971-72 was suspended on the ground of “railway transport constraints imposed py civilian priorities.” Not to cause despondency among the troops in operational areas, they were informed that their tenure in family stations would be suitably extended to compensate them for the extra time spent in the field.
Manpower shortage was another problem confronting the Chief. Units were under strength, having been milked for new raisings and because of normal wastage through retirement and release. This was tackled by a crash programme of training recruits at the regimental training centres and reducing the training period by some weeks. Fresh intake was surreptitiously increased to cater for war wastage as the normal manpower pipeline did not cater for this. Reservists were called for training in the monsoon and were kept on till well after the conflict. Used as reinforcements, their performance was poor. Only about 60 per cent responded to call notices and even they became disgruntled as their period of mobilisation dragged on.
During the period of preparation, it was essential that units should maintain a battleworthy level of manpower. Leave was therefore restricted to 10 per cent of unit strength, and that too only on extreme compassionate grounds. This meant forgoing leave for most of the rank and file. To avoid discontent on this account, Government was prevailed upon to extend the privilege of availing of leave entitlement for 1971 up to 1973. This was later extended to 1974.
The officer situation was more serious. It was estimated that 30 to 35 per cent of the authorised officer strength in a unit was away at any given time on leave, courses of instruction and other duties. To remedy this, the Chief ordered the staff at Army Headquarters and the headquarters of other formations to be drastically pruned to spare officers for posting to field formations. He also ordered the cancellation of courses of instruction involving the absence of essential command elements from their units on the ostensible ground that important training institutions were to be reorganised.
Plans were also made to use the instructional staff of the training institutions and students of the National Defence College in war establishments of field formations on mobilisation. The campaign and new controlling headquarters to be raised needed the services of experienced and fairly senior officers who would be forthcoming from such sources. The Chief was also keen that continuity in the command and control of fighting units and formations should not be upset on the eve of war. To implement these schemes all changes already planned in command and staff of formations and units were suspended.
The existing mobilisation plan envisaged the embodiment of both urban and rural units of the Territorial Army (TA) to be effective well before the war began. The process involved sending out call notices, gathering manpower, collecting equipment, giving refresher training to marry men with their arms and movement to their respective areas of operational responsibility. The whole period required for making these units fully effective was anything from four to eight weeks, depending upon the response to embodiment from employers and the Territorials themselves. Even under normal conditions, the response was rather poor.
The most essential TA elements were the air defence units, which were required to be positioned at forward airfields or in radar units well before the start of hostilities to afford protective cover in case of a preemptive strike.
Not to cause despondency among the troops in operational areas, they were informed that their tenure in family stations would be suitably extended to compensate them for the extra time spent in the field.
Another aspect of TA that worried the Chief was the alarm that the very announcement of its embodiment would create in the country. It would imply war was in the offing, and this always affected commerce adversely. Internationally, it would afford Pakistan an opportunity to accuse India in world forums of aggeressive intentions.
To circumvent this, the Chief announced a change in its mode of training. The prevalent system was for urban units to carry out norrmal training on weekends and holidays for a minimum three days a month for nine months. Collective training was carried out at the sub-unit level for 36 to 60 days, depending upon the state of training of each unit, including a camp of eight to 14 days duration. The idea of sparing their employees for about two weeks was not altogether attractive to employers. In the case of provincial units, training was organised in camps of two months’ duration once a year. Timings were staggered to suit the local farm cropping pattern.
The system did not meet the requirements of surreptitious embodiment. To do this in a smooth and orderly manner without attracting attention, it was decided that as an experimental measure all TA units should hold their annual training camps for three weeks from 1 September. This was ostensibly done to try out the contemplated change in policy. The Director of TA issued a directive on the new procedure for trial and comment. There were a few representations from those charged with implementing it, but nevertheless the changed policy was pushed through.
In the event, war did not come till the beginning of December. To cover the period from 22 September to the day of embodiment, sometime in the third week of November, the training camps were extended to overcome the shortcomings noticed. Thus, when war broke out, a fully effective Territorial Army was already in the field. The units were gradually moved closer to their respective areas of responsibility from the training camps and were in battle positions when Yahya Khan struck.
The officer situation was more serious.
To give flexibility to operational plans and provide options in their execution, it is essential that a network of roads, with adequate laterals for a quick build-up and switchover, should be available near the intended lines of thrust. The western theatre was well served with a road system built under the strategic roads programme initiated in the 1960s, but this was not the case in the east, especially in the underdeveloped states of Meghalaya and Tripura. Since roadmaking needs time, work was started on new networks as well as to improve existing roads in that region.
The Border Road Task Force, assisted where possible by central and state roadbuilding agencies, was put on the job. Built under a crash programme, essential roads were ready in time. But this was not the case with forward airfields. It was soon realised that the field at Kumbigram could not fully cover operations in depth in Bangladesh. A decision was therefore taken to build a new air field somewhere in depth near Agartala, but despite the best efforts of the construction agencies the monsoon-soaked paddy fields did not dry in time to permit construction as planned, and this field had not become operational when the war began.
Along with the lack of a proper road and rail system, the eastern theatre lacked the requisite administrative infrastructure in the way of accommodation and communication facilities. This hampered an administrative build-up as no meaningful stocking could proceed without covered accommodation. To dump supplies in the open in that rainsoaked region would have been suicidal.
Taking a cue from the experience of the Fourteenth Army in World War II, a programme for the construction of huts was pushed through, and these were ready to store material when the stocking programme got under way. Similarly, new telegraph routes were laid, some old ones rerouted, and others taken over from the civil authorities so that before the start of hostilities the communication network was fully operative.
Our mobilisation plan provided for raising communication zone administrative units on the approach of war. This system was a legacy of British concepts, when wars were long and allowed enough time for a build-up of a nation’s war potential. It was entirely unsuited for a short war. Such units are really required well before the start of hostilities so that in the stage of building up the administrative infrastructure they can make a useful contribution. In 1971, these units actually came into being only a month or so before Pakistan struck, and well after the completion of the build-up. As a result they made very little contribution to the war effort, except perhaps in winding up its aftermath.
Along with the lack of a proper road and rail system, the eastern theatre lacked the requisite administrative infrastructure in the way of accommodation and communication facilities.
Such raisings at short notice do not serve the purpose of a short war. On the other hand, they prove harmful. Their manpower has to be found by milking existing units. Fresh recruitment for the purpose at such a late stage would be meaningless. Milking results in the deterioration of the fighting efficiency of existing units, and the hurriedly raised new units fare no better. In fact, all the directors of administrative service grumbled at this arrangement. Meanwhile, the commands concerned had contrived to raise ad hoc organisations to meet the contingency.
A major task in the preparatory stage was moving strike forces from the hinterland to their respective areas of responsibility. Apart from the holding troops, most of the reserve formations, including l Armoured Division, were located in the interior in farflung places like Jhansi, Babina, Hyderabad and Bangalore. The constraints on their movement were threefold. Firstly, there was the question of security. Once word of their movement leaked out—and it was difficult to conceal such a largescale operation—this would not only alert Pakistan and invite international pressures but would also spread a war scare among our people. These considerations apart, it was felt that if troops remained in their concentration areas too long, the pattern of their deployment would give away the general intentions of our operational plans.
It would therefore have been preferable to move our troops as late as possibly. But then Yahya Khan was almost daily threatening India with war in his drunken bouts,1 and the chances of his making a preemptive attack could not be ruled out. The location of the Indian cantonments and the availability of accommodation did not permit housing sufficient troops for deployment in such a defensive posture as to hold a Pakistani preemptive attack along the likely thrust lines and also provide a strong cover to allow concentration of troops from the hinterland. This entailed the movement of some formations soon after the monsoon.
A major task in the preparatory stage was moving strike forces from the hinterland to their respective areas of responsibility.
The second constraint was the physical movement itself. It was calculated that if normal passenger and commercial traffic was not to be disturbed it would take a good six to eight weeks to complete our concentrations. This process could be accelerated by suspending civil traffic, but this was not acceptable for reasons of security and public morale. Then there was the limitation of loading and unloading facilities at the entraining and detraining stations. At most places no more than four or five trains could be served at a time.
Besides, the layout of certain railway tracks, and their reduced capacity on the movement arteries, gave a funnelling effect to speedy build-up of forces for a short war. The availability of flats to carry tanks and the newly introduced Russian medium guns was limited. Some shuttling became necessary, and that proved time consuming. Concerted efforts were made to seek solutions for some of these limitations by rerouting trains, creating additional facilities for loading and unloading, and resorting to partial movement by motor transport.
Once word of their movement leaked out–and it was difficult to conceal such a largescale operation–this would not only alert Pakistan and invite international pressures but would also spread a war scare among our people.
Last, but not least, were the political compulsions. The Indian Government continued to solicit the help of the big powers in exerting political and economic pressure on Yahya Khan to seek a peaceful solution in Bangladesh.2 This process of political negotiations and diplomacy ran on well into the end of November 1971. While these negotiations were on, it was considered inexpedient to make any ostensible warlike movement which would convey impressions contrary to our public declarations.
The Chief held his hand till the beginning of October, but thereafter he considered it militarily imprudent to accept the risk of a likely Pakistani preemptive move any further. Orders were issued for the start of troop concentrations in their areas of responsibility in a steady trickle. The movement started in the first week of October and continued till well after the middle of November. But the tactical imbalance which existed because of the improper location of troops was redressed by the third week of October. Yahya Khan had waited too long.
Various measures were considered for keeping these movements a well-guarded secret. The planners were aware that no secret was safe in an open society like India, and least of all the movement of troops on a large scale. To conceal the layout of the Indian defensive posture, especially the positioning of its reserve formations, to the very end, it was proposed to move them to the depth-training areas for the ostensible purpose of running exercises with troops, and then move them to the operational areas only when war was imminent. To this proposal too the Chief did not agree. He said: I don’t like this fancy stuff. You should realise that my formations are not the German Panzer divisions. They take their own time to move.’ How well Manekshaw knew his army.
…Yahya Khan was almost daily threatening India with war in his drunken bouts,1 and the chances of his making a preemptive attack could not be ruled out.
The formations were accordingly moved straight to their concentration areas in broad daylight, fully accepting the breach of security for the sake of orderly execution. Several other possible measures were however adopted to hide their destinations, such as cutting down various reports and returns, choosing wayside halts, confusing the wearing of formations signs and adopting altogether new tactical numbers for signposting. Despite these measures it appears from what the Pakistani-India ‘watchers’ said after the conflict that the Indian planners were successful in hiding the identity of only one formation in the entire movement.
The Chief paid great attention to building up the jawan’s morale, especially to strengthen his motivation to accept greater physical risks in the face of fire. Manekshaw had himself been severely wounded in World War II and fully understood the plight of disabled soldiers and their families, and above all of war widows. The British in the old days went out of their way to enhance the izzat (pride) of the serving soldier and gave liberal jagirs (grants of land) and other concessions such as educational facilities to the children of ex-servicemen, and were still more magnanimous to those killed or wounded in battle.
…It was calculated that if normal passenger and commercial traffic was not to be disturbed it would take a good six to eight weeks to complete our concentrations.
After independence, and the installation of a democratic national government, considerations of loyalty and devotion to duty were cast to the winds and rupees, annas and pies came to the fore. As a result the grants, pensions and other concessions for those killed or wounded in war fell so miserably low that it almost amounted to a soldier’s family being thrown on the streets. The transition from the British to the new Indian environment was so sudden that the soldier did not realise its full impact till the Jammu and Kashmir operations were over.
Lt Col (later Maj Gen) Rawind Singh Grewal, who had received a machine-gun burst straight in his stomach and leg in the J and K operations, was hospitalised for a period longer than stipulated for retention of acting rank and was brought down to his substantive rank of captain after 28 days. This officer is said to have walked up to Cariappa, then Chief, and pointing to his scars, said : Sir, do you think I got these wounds for the benefit of my health? The reward for risking my life for the sake of my country has been loss of rank and pay. Trust me to fight for you again. Goodbye, Sir.’ Cariappa and his successors were aware of the problem, but nothing substantial could be achieved against the callous attitude of money-conscious politicians and the hidebound bureaucracy. A stalemate ensued and the morale of the soldiery continued to sag, especially in the materialistic environment of a developing country. The old soldier was fading out, and with him disappeared the old sense of loyalty and duty. The new soldier was brought up on the fast-changing value of the rupee.
It was noticed in the Sino-Indian conflict of 1962 and in the Indo-Pak conflict of 1965 that the Indian soldier was successively taking fewer risks under fire. Although some concessions were announced by various state governments at the end of the 1965 conflict, soon thereafter the soldier was quickly forgotten as fast as public enthusiasm diminished. Nothing was stabilised.
The Chief wanted these grievances redressed to ensure that the soldier would go into the oncoming war with the assurance that should he get killed his family would be looked after for life, and his children educated in a manner befitting his rank and status. And should he get wounded he would not have to fend for himself. Even those missing in war or taken prisoner would receive the same consideration because, so far as the families were concerned, the bread winner was lost.
On the Chief’s orders, a study of the problems confronting battle casualties was carried out in depth and rational solutions sought to alleviate the hardships of their families in a practical manner. His broad recommendations in the form of various allowances and pension benefits were accepted by the Government with very slight modifications.3 This was a significant contribution to building up the Indian Army which only a man of Manekshaw’s calibre could achieve despite bureaucratic red-tape.
Among the new measures was the grant of full pay and allowances for two months to the family of a man killed in action, and an adequate allowance thereafter till the special family pension was sanctioned. The rate of this pension was also liberalised to make it three-fourths a man’s basic pay. The rights of war widows who remarried were protected, and liberal gratuities were provided for the families of those killed in action to soften the initial blow. Adequate provision was made for children, including allowances for education. The rank and pay of those wounded in action were also safeguarded for the period of hospitalisation, and the rates of disability pension were liberalised.
A number of new medals were introduced to cover the coming campaign. A Silver Jubilee Medal to commemorate a quarter century of independence was also instituted. The most coveted among the new medals was the Wound Medal, which had a broad scarlet ribbon and could be worn ahead of other campaign medals with some pride. Entitlement for this award was backdated to cover all the campaigns after independence. Displayed on the chests of veterans, this medal instilled a sense of pride in having sustained wounds in the service of their country.
The Chief wanted these grievances redressed to ensure that the soldier would go into the oncoming war with the assurance that should he get killed his family would be looked after for life, and his children educated in a manner befitting his rank and status.
Steps were also taken to look after the families of soldiers suddenly moved to operational areas. These families were allowed to retain the accommodation they occupied. Those who wanted to shift their stations for reasons of personal convenience were allowed to do so, and “separated family quarters” were allotted to them at stations of their choice. Travel concessions were extended to the families for this purpose.
Thus, by painstaking care and great consideration for his men, Manekshaw built that psychological background which motivates soldiers to risk their lives. Never before did the Indian soldier go to war with so much assurance regarding his and his family’s well-being should misfortune befall him.
Meanwhile, the state of no war-no peace continued. There were the usual border incidents and instrusions on the uneasy ceasefire line in Jammu and Kashmir.1 Counter-insurgency operations in Nagaland and Mizoram also went on. More than a division of troops was employed in maintaining internal security in West Bengal till August. The commitments relating to the insurgency in East Pakistan were mounting. A sizable organisation was needed to train and give operational guidance to the guerilla forces.
The reader may here like to know something of the system of higher direction of war obtaining in India. The Indian defence organisation is based on the British democratic system under which the elected head of government in the person of the Prime Minister is responsible to Parliament, and through it to the nation as a whole, for the defence of the country. Borrowed again from the British, there were various committees, like the Cabinet Defence Committee, to help the Prime Minister to carry out his duties. This role was later taken over by the Political Affairs Committee, the Defence Minister’s Committee and the Chiefs of Staff Committee.
The rights of war widows who remarried were protected, and liberal gratuities were provided for the families of those killed in action to soften the initial blow.
Briefly, the role of the Chiefs of Staff Committee was to render to the Prime Minister professional advice on military strategy and the conduct of military operations, and to point out the military implications of a particular policy. The Chiefs had direct access to the Prime Minister. The role of the Defence Minister was to coordinate the requirements and priorities of the three services and allocate resources to them. Beyond this he had no hand in formulating defence policy individually, but being a member of the Political Affairs Committee he shared responsibility for its decisions. His effectiveness depended entirely on the force of his personality and the influence he wielded with the Prime Minister and the Cabinet as a whole.
Historically, this British-inspired committee system has not worked well in India under a monolithic political power system and the abysmal ignorance of most politicians regarding military affairs. In the Jammu and Kashmir operations in 1947-48, higher direction was provided by Earl Mountbatten, the British Governor-General, and his adviser, Lord Ismay, through Jawaharlal Nehru, the Prime Minister. The only flaw in the conduct of that war was the acceptance of a ceasefire when the tide of Indian military operations was sweeping the invaders out of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. This decision led to two more wars, and the problem of Kashmir still defies a political solution.
The most coveted among the new medals was the Wound Medal, which had a broad scarlet ribbon and could be worn ahead of other campaign medals with some pride.
The chain of events which led to the Chinese military collision with India was the result of three-cornered consultations between Nehru, Krishna Menon and Lt Gen BM Kaul. The professional advice of the Chiefs of Staff Committee was bypassed. Only when enraged public opinion forced his hand after a humiliating defeat did the politically shattered Nehru seek refuge in an enlarged National Defence Council and the Cabinet Defence Committee and hurriedly sought the advice of some retired generals.2 But then it was too late both for him and the country. Along with Nehru, the overdone defence counselling disappeared and bureaucratic routine once again established its hold.
Thereafter, up to the Indo-Pakistani conflict of 1965, military advice from Gen Chaudhuri prevailed both in shaping the military machine and the conduct of the war forced on India by Pakistan. The politician, having learnt his lesson from Nehru’s debacle, left the soldier alone. Shastri, Nehru’s successor, proved amenable to Chaudhuri’s advice and was courageous enough to accept full responsibility for his decisions. The strategy for the 1965 conflict was purely of Chaudhuri’s conception, with the tacit concurrence of Air Chief Marshal Arjan Singh. It is a well-known fact that the Indian Navy was left out of the war altogether, to the extent that the flotilla harboured in Bombay did not even know when it started.
Clearly, the Chiefs of Staff Committee was not functioning. The reason was obvious: the committee system visualised a corporate existence where the three Chiefs were equal in status. The committee was supposed to decide collectively, the Chairman not possessing a special vote or veto. Agreed solutions resulted, and it could be safely inferred that the committee’s recommendations would at best be a compromise, which may look attractive in peace but seldom wins wars.
It was not realised that, unlike Britain, India was a subcontinent, separated from potential enemies by only land frontiers. Its wars would be fought mainly on land, where the Army was bound to play the predominant part. The other services would only have a sup. porting role. It was therefore no wonder that Chaudhuri’s counsel prevailed, with Arjan Singh in support. But modern wars are total in nature, and cannot be fought in isolation and, as is aptly said, the serious business of war cannot be left to soldiers alone.
Manekshaw was a soldier of vision…As Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, he pressed for the political involvement of Government in evolving a broad strategy and laying down clearcut directives to achieve our aims.
Manekshaw was a soldier of vision. He realised that major questions of defence policy could not be dealt with in purely military terms. They needed to be coordinated with foreign, economic and internal policies, and in the wider context they embraced the body politic of the entire nation. As Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, he pressed for the political involvement of Government in evolving a broad strategy and laying down clearcut directives to achieve our aims. This was done through his direct contact with the Prime Minister, and through her with the Political Affairs Committee.
In fact, this direct access and the conviction with which he made his recommendations antagonised quite a few of his colleagues and superiors and was the main cause of his difficulties with Defence Minister Jagjivan Ram later. For the first time a political representative in the person of D.P. Dhar, designated Chairman of the Planning Committee of the Ministry of External Affairs, was inducted into war councils.3 Dhar worked closely with Manekshaw throughout the war, and thereafter to settle its aftermath. There could not have been a better combination for the conduct of war. Their understanding of the combined potential of political and military means and their effective use of it was superb.
On the military side, Manekshaw activated the old joint services organs, and created some new ones. A Joint Intelligences Committee, consisting of representatives of the Research and Analysis Wing (RAW), the Intelligence Bureau and the Directors of Intelligence of the three services, was formed under the chairmanship of the Vice Chief of Army Staff. This ensured coordination at the top. Similarly, the Joint Planning Committee dealt with the inter-service coordination of operational plans, and work started on establishing a Combined Services Operational Headquarters. Thus, South Block and Vayu Bhavan became a well-knit team.
He had pledged to seek a victory for India, and he was to redeem that pledge in no uncertain terms.
Manekshaw knew all along that the Army, the predominant partner, would play the vital part, and he had no doubt that success entirely depended on the soundness of the Army’s operational plans and its ability to execute them. The Air Force and the Navy could only further these plans by efficient and timely support and their contribution would ease the Army’s task. It is to Manekshaw’s credit that with his charm and tact, he got the unreserved involvement of the other services in formulating the operational plans, and subsequently in their implementation. Throughout, he never let the other services feel they were not equal partners in the undertaking. In fact, he made it a point to magnify their contribution and was always lavish in his praise of them. Whenever there was a setback, as at a few places in the west, he gracefully accepted the whole blame.
Likewise, on the civil side, a Secretaries’ Committee was set up to take executive decisions dealing with preparations for war and their execution. The committee consisted of the Secretaries of Defence, Home, Finance and Foreign Affairs, and depending on the issues to be dealt with other secretaries were coopted. The committee’s business was transacted with dispatch. The Directors-General of the Border Security Force and of Civil Defence and other heads of para-military forces and allied war organisations were brought in at appropriate stages of planning. The apex of direction, coordination and supervision remained with Manekshaw and Dhar.
The Prime Minister was kept in constant touch with developments, and so was the Political Affairs Committee when considered necessary. But the decision-making processes were never allowed to get tangled in the maze of bureaucratic redtape. The Chief brooked no delay, whether in giving decisions or oiling the sluggish wheels of official machinery to get things moving. He was on the spot if a holdup occurred, whether at headquarters or in the field. He wielded such influence and commanded such respect that invariably the bureaucracy looked up to him rather than attempt to dictate terms. Secretaries were seen hurrying in and out of his office with ready decisions concerning the business of war.
Grateful for the opportunity afforded to him and considering himself lucky to be in the saddle at such a critical time, he set the course towards victory with patriotic fervour and a rare verve. He had pledged to seek a victory for India, and he was to redeem that pledge in no uncertain terms.
Notes:
The Statesman, Calcutta, reported an exodus from West Pakistan on 10 September.
The Statesman and The Hindustan Times, New Delhi, reported the setting up of a top-level Military Affairs Committee which included three Chiefs of Staff and three distinguished retired generals, Gen K.S. Thimayya, Gen Rajendrasinhji and Lt Gen S.P. Thorat, with Defence Minister Y.B. Chavan as chairman.
Radio Pakistan on 5 September 1971, said the Pakistani Government had noted with “much concern” the series of meetings D.P. Dhar, Chairman of Policy Planning in the External Affairs Ministry, had with Bangladesh leaders in Calcutta.
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