Author: Inder Malhotra
Publication: The Tribune
Date: December 14, 2007
URL: http://www.tribuneindia.com/2007/20071214/edit.htm#4
Appalling management of China border
During his recent visit to Nathu La in Sikkim,
Defence Minister A. K. Antony was evidently taken aback by the stark contrast
between the Chinese and Indian infrastructure along the border, or the Line
of Actual Control, between the two Asian giants. Indeed, his body language
on TV suggested as if he had had a sudden awakening. He said as much to the
accompanying media. "We must do something to fill the gap", he declared,
or words to that effect.
Several nagging questions arise. The first
is that this seasoned and respected former Chief Minister of Kerala may be
new to the Ministry of Defence, but surely he has been there long enough to
be briefed adequately on the unsatisfactory state of our management of the
border with China. In recent years several former Army Chiefs, in particular
General Ved Prakash Malik, have been bemoaning publicly the constant, comprehensive
and brisk upgrading of the border infrastructure by the northern neighbour,
while the condition of our border roads, such as they are, communications,
helipads, airstrips and so on remains depressing, often appalling.
More important, the painful problem is not
new or of recent origin. Sadly, it dates back to the creation. To make matters
worse, the inability of the Indian state to implement decisions it takes itself
at the highest levels gets inextricably intermixed with unfailing misperception
of Chinese actions and intentions. Let me try to sum up the tragic tale from
the beginning.
In 1950, when the Chinese army had not yet
marched into Tibet that until then was a virtual buffer between the two countries
but was expected to do so, the government in New Delhi appointed a committee,
headed by the then Deputy Defence Minister, General Himmatsinhji, to suggest
the measures needed to meet the challenges that were bound to arise in the
high Himalayas. In its two reports, speedily submitted, the committee made
sound recommendations, which the Union Cabinet accepted with alacrity. It
also directed the state governments and Central agencies concerned to buckle
down to their assigned tasks, especially the building of border roads, extending
the administration up to the frontier and establishing intelligence and security
posts wherever required.
Some six years later Jawaharlal Nehru discovered to his dismay that hardly
anything had been done. The road-building programme was in a shambles, obviously
because the responsibility for it had been given to the CPWD. That was when
the country's first Prime Minister decided to set up a separate Border Roads
Development Board. He also sent round a hand-written note about his deep disappointment
to all concerned. The position improved somewhat but not enough because the
Army did not want the roads to reach right up to the border. It argued that
such roads, if constructed, would prove useful to the Chinese. Consequently,
the peculiar edict of the army top brass often was that in case of a Chinese
attack, the invaders should not be met at "impossible Himalayan heights"
but taken on when they reached the foothills or the plains, with their lines
of communication and supplies "overstretched". No one bothered to
ponder what would happen if the Chinese just sat tight on the areas they claimed
and did not descend further.
Accompanying this dubious doctrine was the
unstated but widely prevalent notion that the Chinese were 10 feet tall and
were best left alone. General K. S. Thimayya, one of India's most popular
army leaders, had seen the Chinese army in Korea (where it had nearly defeated
the legendary US General MacArthur). At top-secret official meetings first
and later in a magazine article in July 1962 he articulated the view that
the Indian army by itself could not take on the Chinese in a "big war"
because the Soviet Union would back China to the hilt.
Ironically, Nehru was the first world statesman
to foresee the Sino-Soviet split but such was the structure and style of governance
that his ideas never trickled down to the military and civilian bureaucracy,
with disastrous results. Nor, sadly, has the state of affairs changed much
even today, the National Security Council and an array of advisers on national
security notwithstanding.
A succession of events in 1959 - the Tibetan
revolt, the asylum given to the fleeing Dalai Lama and the incident at Kongka-la
where the Chinese first drew blood - drove home the message that precious
little had been done to withstand aggressive Chinese "incursions"
though, strangely, Nehru convinced himself that while border skirmishes and
patrol-level clashes would continue, the Chinese would "do nothing big".
No one with a say in policy dared dissent. However, a rapid programme to establish
border posts, especially in the Ladakh sector, was launched hurriedly. This
country alone could have been so thoughtless as to name this plan to strengthen
defences on Indian soil "Forward Policy" - an expression that has
had a different connotation since the British days. In sharp contrast, the
exaggerated trauma of the 1962 border war also magnified the impression of
China's overwhelming might. A corrective to this came only in 1987 in the
form of General Sundarji's Operation Chequerboard in Sumdourongchu. For this,
paradoxically, he was much criticised!
Meanwhile, in 1971 B.N. Mullik, the intelligence
czar of this country almost all through the Nehru era, published his book,
The Chinese Betrayal. In it, he defended the government's rather poor record
on the border infrastructure on the ground that it would take time to overcome
the virtually "insurmountable difficulties" of terrain and resources
in this respect. Evidently, 36 years have not been sufficient for this purpose.
Under the circumstances, going by past experience, the question is whether
anyone would carry out the Defence Minister's current exhortations. An across-the-board
decline in the Indian administration's capacity to deliver on its promises
or to carry out the directives of the higher authorities makes the situation
a lot more bizarre. The failure of the powers that be to punish the guilty
has aggravated the messy situation.
Against this bleak backdrop, what greater
irony can there be than that, speaking in a different context only the other
day, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh had to quote his Chinese counterpart, Mr
Wen Jiabao, to the effect that implementation was of the essence? The best
of policies would mean nothing if they were not enforced. The Prime Minister,
in fact, wanted Premier Wen's speech to be made compulsory reading for Indian
officials. Even if they do read this speech, would they heed its message?
