From
Kutch to Tashkent, By AG NOORANI
Farooq
Bajwa scores in analysing Pakistan’s rationale for the 1965 war, providing a
lucid account of its course, and in linking it to the diplomatic exchanges
right until the Tashkent conference in January 1966. By A.G. NOORANI
“History teaches us that conferences reflect in
their decisions an established balance of forces resulting from victory or
capitulation in war or similar circumstances."
--Khrushchev at Leipzig on March 7, 1959.
REGIONALLY, the war that Pakistan launched against
India in 1965, in a foolish calculation, inflicted consequences on itself as
far reaching as those unleashed by the First World War (1914-1919). It weakened
the authority and diminished the stature of President M. Ayub Khan, whom The
Economist had hailed as Asia’s de Gaulle; ended Pakistan’s military
build-up with American help; strengthened the secessionist sentiment in East
Pakistan; and weakened those in India, led by Jayaprakash Narayan, who demanded
a settlement of the Kashmir dispute, if need be by holding a plebiscite.
Jawaharlal Nehru had set his face against a
plebiscite in 1948 in private, if not earlier, deceptive promises in public
notwithstanding. He publicly ruled out a plebiscite in 1954 after the United
States announced its programme of military aid to Pakistan. The 1965 war
buttressed India’s old resolve with greater plausibility—Pakistan could not
demand at the conference table what it had failed to secure at its own chosen
forum, the battlefield. Pakistan’s defeat was predictable and was, indeed,
predicted by The Economist in a brilliant editorial written by
Stephen Hugh-Jones, who had served as Assistant Editor of The Indian
Express in Mumbai, where it was then headquartered, from 1961 to 1963.
He also reported for The Manchester Guardian and The
Economist, while in the city, and now contributes a column on the quirks of
the English language to The Telegraph. I cherish the 50-year-old
friendship, not least because he alerted Amnesty International while I was in
prison and wrote a letter “C/o The Governor, Yeravada Jail, Poona” which,
despite its sharp comments, was delivered uncensored to me.
There is overwhelming evidence that the war was conceived by
Foreign Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and his henchman, the boorish Foreign
Secretary Aziz Ahmad. Ayub Khan overcame his initial reluctance and supported
it. The plan was in two phases. In the first, guerillas were sent into Kashmir
on August 5, 1965, as reported by General Nimmo, Chief of the United Nations
Military Observers Group for India and Pakistan. Kashmiris did not rise in
revolt against India to aid the infiltrators. It was known as Operation
Gibraltar. Its failure drove Ayub Khan to send his army into Kashmir on
September 1 in Operation Grand Slam.
On July 27, 1951, Prime
Minister Liaquat Ali Khan held up a clenched fist as the country’s “symbol”.
Kashmir’s Constituent Assembly had been convened and he was afraid it might
ratify the State’s accession to India. Nehru moved troops to the border and
invited Liaquat Ali Khan to India for talks. He also made it plain that any
attack on Kashmir would be treated as an attack on India to which it would
respond accordingly. This declaration was repeated by his successor, Lal
Bahadur Shastri, in 1965 after the Kutch crisis, which was a trailer to
Pakistan’s adventure in Kashmir.
Operation Grand Slam
Operation Grand Slam was aimed at India’s “jugular” vein—Akhnur. The target was personally selected by Ayub Khan, as his confidant and biographer, Altaf Gauhar, records (Ayub Khan; Sang-e-Meel Publications, Lahore, 1993). If it was seized, Indian troops in the valley would have been choked. A secret Kashmir cell, miscalled the Kashmir Publicity Committee, comprising senior officials and headed by Aziz Ahmad, was set up in 1964. In the second week of February 1965, the plan was explained to the Intelligence Committee of the Cabinet. Ayub Khan asked angrily, “Who authorised the Foreign Office and the ISI [Inter-Services Intelligence] to draw up such a plan? It is not their job” (page 321). At Murree, on May 13, 1965, before the ceasefire in Kutch became effective, Ayub Khan examined the plan that had been prepared by General Akhtar Malik, General Officer Commanding of 12 Division, to launch the guerilla operations. The details were explained on a sand table.
Operation Grand Slam was aimed at India’s “jugular” vein—Akhnur. The target was personally selected by Ayub Khan, as his confidant and biographer, Altaf Gauhar, records (Ayub Khan; Sang-e-Meel Publications, Lahore, 1993). If it was seized, Indian troops in the valley would have been choked. A secret Kashmir cell, miscalled the Kashmir Publicity Committee, comprising senior officials and headed by Aziz Ahmad, was set up in 1964. In the second week of February 1965, the plan was explained to the Intelligence Committee of the Cabinet. Ayub Khan asked angrily, “Who authorised the Foreign Office and the ISI [Inter-Services Intelligence] to draw up such a plan? It is not their job” (page 321). At Murree, on May 13, 1965, before the ceasefire in Kutch became effective, Ayub Khan examined the plan that had been prepared by General Akhtar Malik, General Officer Commanding of 12 Division, to launch the guerilla operations. The details were explained on a sand table.
“Toward the end Ayub put
his finger on Akhnur, an important town of great strategic value, and asked,
‘But why don’t you go for the jugular?’ ‘That would require a lot more men and
money,’ replied General Malik. After some discussion Ayub sanctioned additional
funds and told the Commander-in-Chief to provide the necessary manpower. Thus
was Akhnur introduced into the operation which was shown as a red flag in
General Malik’s plan. The assault on Akhnur was later given the code name Grand
Slam. The timing of Grand Slam was not discussed but everyone admired Ayub for
giving the operation a real edge and a new dimension” (Gauhar; page 322).
Only the day before, on May 12, 1965, Foreign Minister Bhutto had addressed to President Ayub Khan a revealing letter, which bears quotation in extenso: “India is at present in no position to risk a general war of unlimited duration for the annihilation of Pakistan…. Moreover, from what I have been able to gather from authoritative sources,there is for the present at least, the relative superiority of the military forces of Pakistan in terms of quality and equipment…. This does not mean that there cannot be a general war of limited duration … the morale of our nameless soldier on the front line is high. He has proved to be an effective exponent of our foreign policy. The powder out of his gun has succeeded in drawing attention and bringing forth appeals from all over the world. It has been demonstrated that a bold and courageous stand on our part does not only succeed in stemming the tide but it also helps to open up greater possibility for a negotiated settlement. The justice of our cause is not in doubt. The valour and morale of our people is equally well-established.… However, facts being what they are, the situation is becoming more and more difficult for us and the time must come when India will be in a position to successfully wage a short and swift action against Pakistan.… In issues of war and peace, the question of initiative assumes very great importance.… It is the nature and extent to which Pakistan reacts to the retaliatory action by India which will determine the future course of events. The initiative would move to India only in case Pakistan should decide to rationalise India’s retaliatory measure as a fair retribution for Biar Bet [in Kutch] and to leave it at that. India would then use Pakistan’s acquiescence as a springboard for precipitating a war.… In the ultimate analysis, two alternatives face us: (i) to react now boldly and courageously in self-defence, in the event of Indian retaliation, or (ii) to allow the initiative to move irrevocably to India, who would then proceed to launch her final attack for the liquidation of Pakistan subsequently at a place and time of her own choosing.
“When we consider that India’s capacity increases with the
passage of every single day, the second alternative diminishes in meaning
and leaves us with the painful and poignant choice to react now if India
chooses to retaliate. This is our hour of decision and may God guide us on the
right path” (White Paper on the Jammu & Kashmir Dispute; Government of
Pakistan; 1977; pages 82-84).
The White Paper ends the
long quote with this lie: “This assessment had gone unheeded.” Quite the
contrary. On the very next day, at Murree, Ayub Khan adopted the plan. The
White Paper was credibly reported to have been the work of Bhutto’s Special
Assistant, Yusuf Buch. Its language and contents reek of partisan polemics to
which no official would stoop. Its aim was to denounce Ayub Khan and it was published
to bolster Bhutto’s prospects in the 1977 general elections. What option did
India have in the face of the march towards its jugular, Akhnur, but to carry
out its oft-repeated resolve, in such a case, to attack Pakistan in order to
relieve the pressure in Jammu. This is just what India did on September 6. It
marched towards Lahore.
Yet, in the last nearly half a century, September 6 is observed
as Defence Day in Pakistan. In Indian mythology, Pakistan attacked India on
December 3, 1971, though Indian armour had entered East Pakistan on November
22, its Mukti Bahini apart. Indira Gandhi had decided to go to war in April
1971. India marched into Junagadh well before the tribal raid into Kashmir on
October 22, 1947, an operation approved by its leader, Mohammad Ali Jinnah,
which Pakistan denies. The India-Pakistan mythology war betrays sheer
immaturity on both sides. Let alone journalists, even academics accept those
myths.
Mature study
Farooq Bajwa’s book on the 1965 war is a mature study based on original research into hitherto unpublished material. A few factual errors and unreal hypothesis notwithstanding, he eschews partisanship and strives to be fair. The reader is taken all the way through the dense thicket, by each chapter on Operation Gibraltar, Operation Grand Slam and Operation Riddle—whose plans were finalised by the brilliant Lt.-Gen. Harbaksh Singh, GOC, Western Command. It envisaged a three-pronged attack on Lahore —Pakistan’s immediate riposte, Operation Mailed Fist at Khem Karan; Operation Nepal—India’s march into Sialkot; and Pakistan’s Operation Wind-Up of September 20 designed to carry out an assault on numerous Indian positions.
Farooq Bajwa’s book on the 1965 war is a mature study based on original research into hitherto unpublished material. A few factual errors and unreal hypothesis notwithstanding, he eschews partisanship and strives to be fair. The reader is taken all the way through the dense thicket, by each chapter on Operation Gibraltar, Operation Grand Slam and Operation Riddle—whose plans were finalised by the brilliant Lt.-Gen. Harbaksh Singh, GOC, Western Command. It envisaged a three-pronged attack on Lahore —Pakistan’s immediate riposte, Operation Mailed Fist at Khem Karan; Operation Nepal—India’s march into Sialkot; and Pakistan’s Operation Wind-Up of September 20 designed to carry out an assault on numerous Indian positions.
On the military aspect of
the war, Lt.-Gen. Mahmud Ahmed’s magisterial book History of Indo-Pak War (Services Book Club, 2006) merits
close study since he was given almost unfettered access to military papers in
writing the book.
Where Farooq Bajwa scores
is in analysing Pakistan’s rationale for the war, providing a fair and lucid
account of its course, and, above all, in linking it to the diplomatic
exchanges which were being simultaneously conducted right until the Tashkent
conference in January 1966, including Ayub Khan’s secret trip to meet China’s
leaders during the war. They advised him against accepting a ceasefire and
prodded him to launch a guerilla war against India.
The war made the West wash
its hands of a plebiscite in Kashmir. The so-called “U.N. Resolutions”, which
Kashmiri demagogues scream about, had died in 1964 and were buried by the
Security Council’s Resolution 211 of September 20, 1965. All it decided was “to
consider”, after the ceasefire had been established, “what steps could be taken
to assist towards a settlement of the political problem underlying the present
conflict”. The Secretary-General was asked to assist the parties “to seek a
peaceful solution”. This was overtaken by the Tashkent Declaration on January
10, 1966. The 1998 resolution by the Security Council after the nuclear
explosions buried the old resolution even deeper.
In December 1965, Ayub Khan went to the U.S. to meet President
Lyndon Johnson. He was asked to “realise that we cannot force India out of
Kashmir. Nor can the Paks. To be brutally frank, we think that only out of a
process of reconciliation with India is any compromise likely to emerge.” The
most that Johnson could offer Ayub was that “although the U.S. could not help
Pakistan in Kashmir, it could do something which no other state could: that is,
‘help assure Pakistan’s future viability and security—which we see as its
ultimate insurance against any Indian threat’. Before that was to happen, Ayub
had to reassure the U.S. that he would not … waste money on the arms race, …
let anti-U.S. public abuse continue.”
On December 14, 1965, Ayub
Khan himself told U.S. Under-Secretary of State George Ball that Pakistan was
not “irrevocably attached to the plebiscite”. He told his Ministers on
December 31, 1965, shortly before his departure for Tashkent, “I know of people
[read: Bhutto] who want to risk Pakistan for the sake of Kashmir.”
Grim realities
The author fairly records the grim realities which faced the man. “Ayub had been left in no doubt after the visit to London and Washington in December 1965 that the West had washed its collective hands of Kashmir and the only option available to Ayub was to refuse the invitation to Tashkent or to walk away from there without an agreement, which would have resulted in diplomatic isolation, no military support from the U.S. and tacit U.S. encouragement of Soviet support for India.…
The author fairly records the grim realities which faced the man. “Ayub had been left in no doubt after the visit to London and Washington in December 1965 that the West had washed its collective hands of Kashmir and the only option available to Ayub was to refuse the invitation to Tashkent or to walk away from there without an agreement, which would have resulted in diplomatic isolation, no military support from the U.S. and tacit U.S. encouragement of Soviet support for India.…
“Faced with a military stalemate
in which Pakistani tanks and aircraft had no spare parts and ammunition
supplies were running low, Ayub was reminded many times after the ceasefire
that he could not achieve on the diplomatic field what the arms had failed to
achieve on the battlefield. India held territory in Sialkot and near Lahore
while Pakistan had few reserves and only a small portion of land on Indian
territory at Khem Karan and some land in Chamb since Grand Slam. In order to
continue to fight with India in 1965, the Pakistan Army would have had to
transform itself into a Chinese-style ‘red army’, a concept which the
predominantly Sandhurst or U.S.-trained Pakistani senior military officers were
simply not able or willing to contemplate. Tashkent was therefore the natural
acceptance of the inevitable result of a war which had begun on a wing and a
prayer” and massive propaganda. That genius Noorjehan’s patriotic songs won her
undying fame. The propaganda hid the realities from the people. Tashkent came
as a rude shock.
The prime instigator of the war, Bhutto, exploited it to
undermine his benefactor and emerge as a popular hero on the debris of a defeat
for which he himself was responsible. This was not the only occasion in which
he acted thus. In March 1971, he sabotaged Yahya Khan’s talks with Sheikh
Mujibur Rehman and broke up his country. In December 1971, he sabotaged the
Polish Resolution in the Security Council, which would have averted the
humiliation of the public surrender at Dhaka as well as the Simla Conference,
though he played his cards well there. Having come to power on the wreck, for
which he was mainly responsible, he began a policy of repression, invited a
subdued army to help him against the opposition, thus reviving its élan, rigged
the elections in 1977 and paved the way for the worst military dictator
Pakistan has suffered, the despicable Zia-ul-Haq. Bhutto’s party loves him
still. Such is the power of myths.
Once the war ended, myths
spawned in plenty in both countries. The Indian Army’s performance left a lot
to be desired. There were careless mistakes and some brilliant performances on
both sides. There was, however, one decision which Ayub Khan personally took
because of which he was and has since been blamed for the defeat. Bajwa holds:
“It was a decision that, without exaggeration, may well have decided the course
of the war. There is no doubt that this was a fundamentally flawed military
decision, and so it can only be explained by some political motivation.… Such a
momentous decision could simply not have been made by [General Mohammed] Musa
on his own initiative; he was as always the messenger for Ayub, and whatever
the later denials and silences, there is no doubt that the decision was made by
Ayub and executed by Musa.”
By first light on September
2, Chamb had been taken and Akhnur was within Pakistan’s reach. In the early
afternoon that day, General Mohammed Musa, C-in-C, flew to 7 Division HQ under
the command of Major-General Yahya Khan. General Akhtar Malik, GoC of 12
Division, who had prepared and led Operation Gibraltar, was summoned. According
to Altaf Gauhar, Ayub Khan had decided “to cut the losses and wind up the
operation”. If so, the easiest thing for him to do was to ask Lal Bahadur
Shastri directly or through the U.S. for a ceasefire followed by talks rather
than give the task to Yahya Khan, who was admittedly “hitting the bottle
because he had been given a marginal role in Gibraltar”. Musa asked this very
man “to assume control of Operation Grand Slam with immediate effect” in
Malik’s presence (1 p.m., September 2). Gauhar’s version thatbefore the operation was given “a decent
burial” India attacked on September 6 is implausible. It has been torn to
pieces by more objective and knowledgeable writers. General Malik was flown
back to GHQ Rawalpindi and then sent to Murree, the HQ of 12 Division.
Bajwa cites the evidence.
Gen. Malik did not speak. But his son gave his version to Gen. Ahmed with
permission to publish it. This poignant letter of November 22, 1967, figures as
Appendix 18 in General Ahmed’s authoritative book (see box). Bajwa agrees that
Ayub sought “to avoid all-out war with India”. After the change of command,
there was a decline in the tempo. Yahya was “told” not to take Akhnur.
Sense dawned belatedly on Ayub Khan. In 1947 the tribesmen, led
by Maj. Gen. (Retd.) Akbar Khan, were just a few miles from Srinagar at the
fourth milestone. They faced a roadblock there. He wrote: “A single armoured
car might be able to break through it. That seemed to be the answer. I thought
a couple of armoured cars could make sure of the job—and they could reach here
from Pakistan within twenty-four hours. The thing to do, therefore, was to rush
back and get the armoured cars.…
“It could be argued that it
would precipitate a general war between India and Pakistan. I did not think it
would. Neither side could afford it. In Kashmir, we were irrevocably committed,
but neither side could wish to enlarge the conflict. The governments of the two
dominions, barely three months old, were not yet fully settled in their
saddles—the old army was not yet fully divided—a neutral boundary force, under
a British General, was still in existence—and there was a common British
Supreme Commander who still carried some weight. …
“…On return to Pindi, I was
immediately able to find Colonel Masud, who volunteered to take not two but a
whole squadron of his unit armoured cars. His men, he said, would go in plain
clothes without official permission and at their own risk. This was indeed a
thrilling response to the needs of the occasion, and all seemed well. While
they were getting ready I held a consultation with Brigadier Sher Khan, Lt.
Colonel Arbab and Raja Ghazanfar Ali Khan, the last being a Central government
Minister at Pindi. Brigadier Sher Khan and Raja Ghazanfar Ali Khan stoutly
opposed the idea. This, they thought, would certainly bring about war; the
government would never forgive it; in any case its chances of success were very
little, and I was to remember that the front was not under my command. So the
proposal was abandoned.
“Thus armoured cars did not
go to the assistance of tribesmen and the tribesmen were not destined to find
some other way of entering Srinagar.” (Akbar Khan, Raiders in Kashmir; Pak
Publishing, Karachi; 1970; pages 43-45.) Pakistan had lost the 1947 war.
In 1947, Nehru was resolved
to attack Pakistan if Uri fell. There has been a similar calculus of politics
and war at work in Kashmir since 1989. There is a limit beyond which Pakistan
will not intervene militarily, nor India acquiesce in it. An astute Pakistani
diplomat told this writer: “We know India will never give up Kashmir; and we
have no desire to go to war over it.” That was over 20 years ago.
Militancy has declined
steeply in Kashmir. But there has been no decline in the people’s antipathy towards
India. However, India cannot relinquish the State to Pakistan, which has
repeatedly sought to grab it by military force. Independence is just not a
viable proposition either. The demagogues in Kashmir who chant “U.N.
resolutions, U.N. resolutions” or imagine that India will quit are either
dishonest or foolish. That said, Pakistan’s locus
standi in the dispute cannot
be denied, though it cannot—indeed does not—ask for enforcing the U.N.
resolutions. Not one member of the Security Council does. Alternatives must be
explored. Now even the unionists have begun clamouring for a settlement of the
Kashmir dispute with Pakistan.
Therein lies hope. “The All or Nothing” approach helps some to enrich
themselves politically by promoting claims to “sole” leadership, fuelling a
contest in irresponsible demagogy. The downtrodden people cry for relief from
repression, which only a settlement with Pakistan will provide. It can be based
realistically on the Four-Point formula—self rule; demilitarisation; de
facto unity of Jammu and Kashmir; and a joint
mechanism between the two parts of the State. Kashmir does not secede from
India. The LoC does not become an international border either. This
is not a “final” settlement but an ad hoc interim arrangement for 10 or 15 years
to provide relief. In 2007, the deal
was just a signature away when Musharraf came into trouble at home.
I liked this article but I don't know who wrote it: Noorani? Bajwa? Choudhry?
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