Men at War |
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That war is evil is something that we all know, and it would be pointless to go on cataloguing all the disadvantages involved in it. Henry IV Shakespeare
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MAJOR-GENERAL Mubarak Hussain was a scion of an aristocratic family of Lucknow, India. After Independence, he had migrated to Pakistan with his immediate family, leaving behind older brothers and cousins to manage the affairs of their landed estates as best they could. They had to contend with the repressive measures and policies of a government bent on abolishing the old feudal class, and all it stood for. The General was a product of Sandhurst, an officer and a gentleman. He had risen to the rank of Major-General through slow promotion, because of the parochial and clique-ridden Punjabi military establishment. He was not happy to find himself in the theater of civil war raging in East Pakistan. He could understand the need to put down this rebellion, which was threatening the unity and integrity of the country, but he began to wonder whether this sad state of affairs might not have been avoided by the perspicacity of the politicians, who had instead made such a mess of things. He regretted now that he had not devoted more time to an investigation of the dramatic chain of circumstances which had led to this sad and tragic conflict between brother Muslims. The General had always been at a loss to recognise the true enemies of Pakistan. The cunning politicians, who had much to gain by exciting public opinion, had from the beginning pointed to India as the only enemy. But the General had himself once been an Indian, and proud of it too! The creation of Pakistan had jolted him into belated acceptance of Mr Jinnah's Two Nation Theory, and had led to a certain enthusiasm for the new dominion of Pakistan, so when the question of physically dividing the British Indian army and its assets between the two new states had arisen, he had optimistically, and in a slightly adventurous spirit, opted for Pakistan. From the isolation of cantonments, and a short spell as military Attache to an Embassy, he had but casually observed the march of political events, from the collapse of civil rule in 1958, and the rise of Ayub Khan, to the advent of Yahyah Khan, when Ayub was forced to step down. Strictly speaking, Mubarak Hussain should never have become a soldier. He was interested in philosophy, poetry and music. In short, he was a man of culture. Under the veneer of Sandhurst and England he was a sincere Muslim, and tried to lead a decent, honourable life. Now for the first time he was placed in a position of command which required a blunt, pragmatic attitude towards the disruptive and subversive elements which had turned East Pakistan into an arena of genocide and guerrilla warfare. The General tapped a pencil against the glass of water before him. "Well, gentlemen, the time has come to take stock of the situation, and devise positive measures to deal with the... ah... enemy." How many times, had how many generals thus addressed their officers, for want of a more trite opening remark? Colonel Ahmed stifled a yawn and said: "Yesterday I sent a platoon east towards the river, on a mopping-up operation. We lost eight men; five wounded. General, if we are to achieve any positive results I must have a helicopter equipped to spray napalm. They must realize that this is not a picnic. Either we destroy them swiftly and suddenly, or leave them alone to creep up on the town and surround us. Of course they wouldn't stand a chance. However, the strategy is quite simple - all I need is equipment." "Napalm?" The General was horrified. "What a dreadful thought! Do you want us to be called inhuman monsters, like the Americans in Vietnam?" "I think Colonel Ahmed has over-stated his case," the Brigadier intervened. What he perhaps means is that we threaten to use napalm. Rumours are easily spread over here. The idea is to terrify them, not burn them alive!" "How can you explain to them what napalm is?" Someone inquired. "By a practical demonstration," Colonel Ahmed insisted. "Impossible", said the General, "and I don't want the subject mentioned again." Yaseen, the Brigade Major, injected a sense of reality. The conference was beginning to become tiresome. He had important work to do. He said: "Operations in the east suffer from two drawbacks. This damned rain has made communications difficult, in parts impossible, and the villagers refuse to cooperate. The rebels are taking hostages, and we have no means of rescuing them. It is a very poor region, and the people are somewhat indifferent to death. I don't mean to say that they are more fatalistic than anyone else, but they have little to lose, or gain, by helping either side on a long-term basis. Their problems occur daily, hourly. I suggest that we continue to offer large rewards for information leading to the capture of rebels, and carry out reprisals as usual." The Brigadier was annoyed. Yaseen always wanted to show off. He was getting too big for his boots! He tapped an irate finger on the surface of the table and said: "General, the truth of the matter is that this incessant rain has depressed all of us. The rebels are used to it. They are small, and can sneak up on our patrols. The Indians have taught them how to handle and lay mines. I even suspect disguised Indian regulars are involved. Why not? Very soon they'll come in openly. Intelligence reports indicate that the rebels plan a winter offensive. The President is becoming more and more belligerent. But to support our operations we must intensify our watch on the river. Their supplies are coming in from India through the northern border. Motor-boats capable of carrying six men or so are what we need, and you must ask Dacca to supply them. Then I can guarantee an overall improvement in our eastern sector. Now may I suggest that we adjourn for lunch?" * * * * *
Alone, the General and the Brigadier faced each other across the coffee cups. Finally the General spoke. |
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