The courageous Pakistan army stand on
the eastern front —Sarmila Bose
There is much for
Pakistan to come to terms with what
happened in 1971. But the answers don’t lie in unthinking vilification of the
fighting men who performed so well in the war against such heavy odds in
defence of the national policy. Rather, in failing to honour them, the nation
dishonours itself.
My introduction to international
politics was 1971, as a schoolgirl in Calcutta. Many images from that year are
still etched in my mind, but the culminating one was the photo on Ramna
racecourse of two men sitting at a table — the smart, turbaned Sikh, ‘our’
war-hero,
Jagjit Singh Aurora, and
the large man in a beret, A A K Niazi, commander of the other side, signing the
instrument of surrender.
Nearly a generation later, a chance
interview for the BBC with Lt Gen. Aurora took me back to 1971. The interview
was not about 1971, but about injustices suffered by Sikhs at the hands of the
state General Aurora had served.
I thought he was a bigger hero for
what he had to say then. That view was reinforced as I read — with incredulity
— the disparaging remarks by other Indian officers about him, and each other, in
their books. If this is what happened to the winning commander, I wondered what
had happened to the other man in the photo. The result was a revelation.
It turns out that
General Niazi has
been my ‘enemy’ since the Second World War. As
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose and
his Indian National Army fought on the Burma front in 1943-45 in their quest
for India’s freedom, Niazi was fighting on the other side, for the
British Indian Army, under
the overall command of General (later Field Marshal)
William Joseph Slim.
Slim and his 14th Army halted the advance of the INA and the Japanese at the
Imphal campaign and turned the course of the war.
In the process of inflicting military
defeat upon my ancestor, Niazi’s performance was so exceptional that the
British awarded him an on-the-spot Military Cross for action on the Assam-Burma
front in June 1944. On another occasion they wanted to award a DSO, but he was
too junior, so a Mention in Despatches was recorded.
In the original record of his MC
signed by his commanding officers all the way up to Slim, which I obtained from
the
British Ministry
of Defence, the British commanders describe Niazi’s gallantry in
detail: “He organized the attack with such skill that his leading platoon
succeeded in achieving complete surprise over the enemy.” They speak of how he
personally led his men, the ‘great skill and coolness’ under fire with which he
changed tactics with changing circumstances, created diversionary attacks,
extricated his wounded, defeated the enemy and withdrew his men by section,
remaining personally at the rear in every case.
The British honoured Niazi for
“personal leadership, bravery and complete disregard for his own personal
safety.” On 15 December 1944 the Viceroy Lord Wavell flew to Imphal and in the
presence of Lord Mountbatten knighted Slim and his corps commanders Stopford,
Scoones and Christison. Only two ‘Indian’ officers were chosen to be decorated
by the Viceroy at that ceremony — ‘Tiger’ Niazi was one of them.
In 1971 Niazi was a highly decorated
Pakistani general, twice receiving the Hilal-e-Jurat. He was sent to East
Pakistan in April 1971 — part of a sorry tradition in South Asia of political
rulers attempting to find military solutions to political problems. By then
Tikka Khan had already launched the crackdown of 25 March for which he has been
known to Bengalis as the ‘butcher of Bengal’ ever since. The population of East
Bengal was completely hostile and Pakistan condemned around the world.
Authoritative scholarly analyses of
1971 are rare. The best work is Richard Sisson and Leo Rose’s War and
Secession. Robert Jackson, fellow of All Soul’s College, Oxford, wrote an
account shortly after the events. Most of the principal participants did not
write about it, a notable exception being Gen. Niazi’s recent memoirs (1998).
Some Indian officers have written books of uneven quality — they make for an
embarrassing read for what the Indians have to say about one another.
However, a consistent picture emerges
from the more objective accounts of the war. Sisson and Rose describe how India
started assisting Bengali rebels since April, but “the
Mukti Bahini had not been able to prevent the Pakistani
army from regaining control over all the major urban centers on the
East Pakistani-Indian border and even establishing a tenuous
authority in most of the rural areas.” From July to October there was direct
involvement of Indian military personnel. “…mid-October to 20 November… Indian
artillery was used much more extensively in support …and Indian military
forces, including tanks and air power on a few occasions, were also used…Indian
units were withdrawn to Indian territory once their objectives had been brought
under the control of the Mukti Bahini — though at times this was only for short
periods, as, to the irritation of the Indians, the Mukti Bahini forces rarely
held their ground when the Pakistani army launched a counterattack.”
Clearly, the Pakistani army regained
East Pakistan for their masters in Islamabad by April-May, creating an
opportunity for a political settlement, and held off both Bengali guerrillas
and their Indian supporters till November, buying more time — time and
opportunity that Pakistan’s rulers and politicians failed to utilise.
Contrary to Indian reports, full-scale
war between India and Pakistan started in East Bengal on 21 November, making it
a four-week war rather than a ‘lightning campaign’. Sisson and Rose state
bluntly: “After the night of 21 November…Indian forces did not withdraw. From
21 to 25 November several Indian army divisions…launched simultaneous military
actions on all of the key border regions of East Pakistan, and from all
directions, with both armored and air support.” Indian officers like Sukhwant
Singh and Lachhman Singh write quite openly in their books about India invading
East Pakistani territory in November, which they knew was ‘an act of war’.
None of the outside scholars expected
the Eastern garrison to withstand a full Indian invasion. On the contrary,
Pakistan’s longstanding strategy was “the defense of the east is in the west”.
Jackson writes, “Pakistani forces had largely withdrawn from scattered
border-protection duties into cleverly fortified defensive positions at the
major centres inside the frontiers, where they held all the major ‘place names’
against Mukti Bahini attacks, and blocked the routes of entry from India…”
Sisson and Rose point out the
incongruity of Islamabad tolerating India’s invasion of East Pakistani
territory in November. On 30 November Niazi received a message from General
Hamid stating, “The whole nation is proud of you and you have their full
support.” The same day Islamabad decided to launch an attack in the West on 2
December, later postponed to 3 December, after a two-week wait, but did not
inform the Eastern command about it. According to Jackson, the Western
offensive was frustrated by 10 December.
Though futile, the Western offensive
allowed India to openly invade the East, with overwhelming advantages. “
…despite all these advantages, the war did not go as smoothly and easily for
the Indian army…”, but Sisson and Rose come to the balanced judgment that “The
Pakistanis fought hard and well; the Indian army won an impressive victory.”
Even Indian officers concede the personal bravery of Niazi and the spirited
fight put up by the Pakistanis in the East. That the troops fought so well
against such overwhelming odds is a credit both to them, and to their
commanders, for an army does not fight well in the absence of good leadership.
However, as Jackson put it, “…India’s
success was inevitable from the moment the general war broke out — unless
diplomatic intervention could frustrate it.” As is well known, Pakistan failed
to secure military or diplomatic intervention. Sisson and Rose also say, “The
outcome of the conflict on the eastern front after 6 December was not in doubt,
as the Indian military had all the advantages.” On 14 December Niazi received
the following message from Yahya Khan: “You have fought a heroic battle against
overwhelming odds. The nation is proud of you …You have now reached a stage
where further resistance is no longer humanly possible nor will it serve any
useful purpose… You should now take all necessary measures to stop the fighting
and preserve the lives of armed forces personnel, all those from West Pakistan
and all loyal elements…” Sisson and Rose naturally describe this message as
“implying that the armed forces in East Pakistan should surrender”.
No matter how traumatic the outcome of
1971 for Pakistan, the Eastern command did not create the conflict, nor were
they responsible for the failure of the political and diplomatic process. Sent
to do the dirty work of the political manoeuvrers, the fighting men seem to
have performed remarkably well against overwhelming odds. It is shocking therefore
to discover that they were not received with honour by their nation on their
return. Their commander, Niazi, appears to have been singled out, along with
one aide, to be punished arbitrarily with dismissal and denial of pension,
without being given the basic right to defend himself through a court-martial,
which he asked for.
The commission set up allegedly to
examine what had happened in 1971 was too flawed in its terms of reference and
report to have any international credibility. However, even its recommendations
of holding public trials and court-martials were ignored. There is much for
Pakistan to come to terms with what happened in 1971. But the answers don’t lie
in unthinking vilification of the fighting men who performed so well in the war
against such heavy odds in defence of the national policy. Rather, in failing
to honour them, the nation dishonours itself.