‘The mantra for success in counterterrorism/insurgency operations is an “iron fist” for the terrorists and a “velvet glove” for the people.’
On New Year’s day in 1991, I took the flight from Delhi to Srinagar for my new assignment. As the plane flew over the beautiful snow-clad Pir Panjal range, I remembered the first time I had crossed the Banihal Pass in 1958 as an excited wide-eyed teenager. A lot of water had flown down the Jhelum in the past three decades. I had just been promoted as a brigadier and was on my way to take over the command of 79 Mountain Brigade. This was my third posting in J&K and the most important of them all, as Kashmir was aflame.
The picketing on the roadsides and heavy security during army movements made it look like a war zone. It was the peak of insurgency in Jammu and Kashmir. I could sense the tension in the air. It was going to be a make-or-break assignment for me and the intensity of operations was going to be immense. We were caught up in a classic case of irregular warfare – a proxy war and insurgency where the lead role was being played by non-state actors and their masters were across the LoC.
Pakistan was the mastermind of this stratagem, also referred to as ‘Operation Topac’. Innocent Kashmiris who were losing their lives were like sacrificial goats, a price that did not hurt Pakistan directly. The jehadis from Pakistan or other countries who were ready to die for the ‘cause’ were cannon fodder produced by jehadi factories in Pakistan or PoK. They were brainwashed and sent across the LoC with the assurance of going directly to ‘jannat’ (heaven), if they embraced ‘shahadat’ (martyrdom). It was going to be a vicious and deadly war imposed upon the Indian state by an insidious, treacherous and ruthless adversary. The stakes being so high, it was clear to me that we could not afford to lose this war – it had to be won at all costs.
Map 11.1: Jammu and Kashmir.
HQ 79 Mountain Brigade, the Himalayan brigade, was located at Khreuh, about 25 kilometres from Srinagar. I took over from Brigadier K.C. Dhingra at a time when the people were restive, and the feeling that ‘azaadi’ (freedom) was round the corner was gaining currency. Massive demonstrations by people chanting ‘azaadi’ slogans were the order of the day. This Machiavellian plan of Pakistan to wrest control of Kashmir was kept as a closely guarded secret. It was an unconventional war with an avowed aim of bleeding India by a thousand cuts. During the Indo-Pak war of 1965, Pakistan infiltrated a trained guerrilla force, including officers and soldiers from the regular army, for carrying out acts of sabotage, violence and subversion in Kashmir as part of Operation Gibraltar. This operation was an unmitigated disaster due to the effective response of the Indian Army, and also because Pakistan’s action received no support from the Kashmiri people.
Therefore, this time, as part of Operation Topac, Pakistan planned to train and indoctrinate Kashmiri youth and subvert the system from within. In the next phase, the aim was to destabilize the state administration with low-level insurgency and keep the Indian Army engaged by small-scale attacks in vulnerable areas. In the third phase, Pakistan hoped to carry out large-scale infiltration and armed action to grab Kashmir.
In actual fact, by 1990, a large number of young men had been given training and indoctrinated with jehadi ideology, and a fair amount of subversion of the state administration had already been achieved. In particular, this included some politicians, elements of the police, public health engineering, telecom, and forest departments. Infiltration across the LoC was being reported from many areas. And an extremely violent phase of Kashmir’s history was beginning to unfold. Phases 2 and 3 had not taken off until then. Nonetheless, the jehadis carried out ethnic cleansing by forcing about three lakh Kashmiri pundits to flee the valley. Farooq Abdullah’s government fell and the state remained under president’s rule from January 1990 to October 1996. Thereafter, Farooq Abdullah was again elected and was chosen to lead the National Conference government till October 2002.
Our brigade came directly under the Corps HQ. Lieutenant General M.A. Zaki, who was our corps commander, told me to carry out operational reconnaissance of all my tasks without worrying about the snow conditions. So I had to go on foot from the main road to the top of various hills, through knee-deep snow at places. This exercise was better than any treadmill and I got to know my area of responsibility, besides getting fit quickly. It was a dramatic change of scene from the peaceful environment of Algeria, and it didn’t take me long to forget all about Algiers.
On being given any assignment, it has been my principle to convey my professional key result areas (KRAs) and concepts to my subordinate commanders and staff officers, as soon as I have got the picture myself. Therefore, I held a conference within a fortnight of my assuming command of the brigade. During this interaction, first, the operational and administrative issues were covered by my staff, then the commanding officers briefed me about the state of their units, and finally, I gave out my directions and policy. My first KRA was that we should have a high state of operational readiness. The next were training and administration issues. We were aware that many Kashmiri and foreign terrorists had infiltrated into J&K in the previous one or two years. They had also carried out some violent acts in the recent past. There were indications that the situation was likely to worsen. Therefore, I impressed on my battalion commanders that the stakes were very high, and that the challenge was to be met by the highest standards of leadership by all of us. As such, we needed to reorient ourselves and our commands to undertake counterterrorist operations. We must accord the highest importance to human rights while carrying out any task, I added, at the same time laying great emphasis on honest reporting.
Within a few days, we were tasked by the Corps HQ to rescue some people taken hostage by a small group of terrorists at Kokernag. One of my battalions, located nearby at Khanabal, on the outskirts of Anantnag, was asked to plan and execute the task. The CO decided to send two companies under the second-in-command to undertake this operation. The plan was to move close to the objective in two prongs, and thereafter advance on foot and cordon off the area where the terrorists were holed up. Apparently, one of the company columns got ambushed on the way. They lost a few soldiers and some others were wounded. The company fought through the ambush, and halted a little distance away. This happened at about 8 p.m. This company never reached the objective at all. During the night, the CO moved up and helped in controlling the situation. Along with the casualties, he pulled back this company to Khanabal, without taking a clearance from the Brigade HQ or even informing us. We were misinformed that the two companies had linked up near the objective area. As a result, throughout the night, we kept conveying incorrect reports to the higher HQ. The next day, when we reached Kokernag, most of the terrorists had slipped through the cordon. One or two of them who were still there threw a few grenades and a splinter hit the corps commander near the eye. Fortunately, it was not very serious, but nonetheless it was a close miss. In the melee, the remaining terrorists also made good their escape. It was a botched-up operation which embarrassed all of us.
As the brigade commander, I accepted full responsibility for the failure of the operation and apologized to the corps and division commanders, namely Lieutenant General Zaki and Major General V.P. Malik (he later became the chief of army staff), respectively. I assured them that we would take corrective measures and ensure that such mistakes did not recur.
At the same time, I took a very serious view of the lapses that had occurred. Tactical mistakes could be understood and corrected, but I could not accept the deliberate act of lying or misinformation by the CO. I requested both the corps and division commanders to consider replacing either me or the CO, as there had been a grave breach of faith between the two of us. Resultantly, I could no longer trust the CO. Having explained the whole scenario to them, I demanded a decision on the spot. Generals Zaki and Malik went into a huddle and after a while took me aside and said that the CO would be relieved from command. I thanked them for the decision and then sought their approval to my proposal that the battalion be disengaged from active operations and trained under my supervision for a month at Khreu. This was also agreed to. But this was not the end. It was clear to me that my performance hereafter would have to justify the strong stand that I had taken or I ought to be prepared to face the guillotine! Like the CO who was sacked, for me also the writing was on the wall: ‘perform or perish’.
As a result of this bungled operation, my brigade and I had gone down below the zero line in operational performance. I had barely done one month in command. However, we took up the challenge, and our results in the months to follow spoke for our actions. In the next one-and-a-half years, the same battalion, the 2/11 Gorkha Rifles (GR) led by Colonel N.K. Pradhan, became one of the most decorated units in the entire corps. The battalion received the ‘Unit Citation’ from the army chief in recognition of its performance during 1991–92. The other units did equally well and contributed handsomely to make our brigade’s achievements the envy of the rest of the command.
Intelligence was received by the Corps HQ that terrorists were planning to unfurl the flag of independent Kashmir on 26 January 1991 at Pahalgam, which had been declared as ‘liberated territory’. Moreover, the situation in Anantnag had deteriorated so much that the deputy commissioner and the superintendant of police were functioning from their residences south of the Jhelum river – it had become unsafe for them to operate from their offices in the town. My brigade was ordered to move to Anantnag forthwith. I deployed one battalion, the 12 Rajputana Rifles, in Pahalgam and Aish Muqam areas and the other two, 17 J&K Rifles and 2/11 GR, in Anantnag. I was given one more battalion, the 1/11 GR, and we cordoned off the entire town of Anantnag, which had a population of over 50,000 people, and other important areas. Entry and exit was controlled by establishment of checkpoints on all roads leading to the town. Something like this had never been attempted before. This step took the terrorists by surprise and they were definitely caught on the wrong foot. Nothing untoward happened on Republic Day and even thereafter. The situation became almost normal.
As part of the plan to sanitize Anantnag and its environs, we launched Operation ‘Just Resolve’ on 14 March 1991. The town had been divided into segments for the purpose of search, which began at about 7 a.m. We had no hard intelligence inputs on the hideouts or locations of the terrorists, so we didn’t expect anything much to come out of this operation. But we were in for a surprise. As soon as the searches commenced, I moved my tactical HQ to the hill in the centre of Anantnag town. From there we had a 360-degree view of the town. Within an hour, an exchange of fire took place between one of our search parties and terrorists hiding in the attic of a house. I learnt that in the shootout our soldiers had killed one terrorist and caught one alive. Both were armed with AK-47s.
I asked the company commander concerned to bring that terrorist to my location immediately so that we could find out all that he knew, and take follow-up actions. Based on my experience and whatever I had learnt in the Intelligence School, I am convinced that information can be extracted only in the initial stages, when the subject is under shock, unstable and afraid. In this case, he broke down very easily and told us of a huge cache of weapons and ammunition in a shop in the nearby market. I ordered the company commander to proceed with the terrorist and unearth the cache. However, the terrorist lost his nerve on reaching the area, claiming he couldn’t identify the exact place. We combed the area by searching each shop systematically and eventually our perseverance paid. We hit a veritable gold mine – a large cache of arms and ammunition in the heart of the town, the first such seizure in Anantnag. These included a sizeable number of rifles, machine guns, rocket launchers, large quantities of ammunition, grenades, rockets and other items.
A realistic but sad dimension of this conflict came to my notice when I was listening into the radio communications on the 17 J&K Rifles net. The conversation on the radio network centred around a baby found abandoned in our area of operations. The unwanted child, probably fathered by a militant, was handed over to an orphanage. Unfortunately, a number of such cases have been reported during this so-called jehad.
The corps commander and the GOC of the division, Generals Zaki and Malik, drove down to congratulate me and my units. Their visit was a great morale booster for us.
As my baggage had arrived in Delhi from Algiers, I took some leave in May ‘91, to help my wife and daughter settle down in army accommodation at Pratap Chowk in Delhi Cantonment. When I returned from leave I was astonished to learn that my Brigade HQ had been ordered to move out of Anantnag, to be redeployed in a counterinfiltration posture. We had been given the operational responsibility of guarding the LoC of a newly created sector in Baramulla area and also to counter any infiltration or exfiltration from this sector. It was a strange decision to take away some of my original battalions and instead, to place under my operational command one infantry battalion and a BSF battalion. But what took the cake was that the annual confidential reports of the COs and other officers of these units were not to be initiated by me, but by their brigade commander sitting 40 kilometres away at Uri! To my mind, this was a perfect recipe for disaster as far as the functional efficiency of a formation was concerned. To make a commander responsible for an operational task on the LoC without having the power to seek accountability from his subordinates was certainly unreasonable, if not irrational. Unless one is given the authority to report on the operational performance of his subordinates, it becomes a herculean task to get the best out of them. I often wonder how I saved my goose from being cooked. Undeterred, I took up the challenge and managed to produce results, though it was extremely demanding on me, physically and mentally. At times, it felt as if I was playing with my life. Why, I cannot say! Had a streak of fatalism crept in?
‘JJ, the next time you go for any cordon-and-search operation, I would like to come along. I have heard a lot about your address to the people and the “khopdi” (skull and bones) drill, and its impact on their minds,’ said Major General Kevin D’Souza, the GOC of 19 Infantry Division. My response was a cryptic, ‘Okay, Sir,’ but I wondered how he came to know of it.
Very soon, I got an opportunity to satisfy the GOC’s curiosity. Based on some intelligence inputs, we launched a cordon-and-search operation in a village named Fatehgarh on the way to Uri. Furthermore, we organized and played an impromptu cricket match with the young men of Fatehgarh. Much to the delight of the village youth, after a friendly ten-over game, we presented the cricket gear to them and shared a cup of tea with them. Such a thing was quite a rarity in those days, and the GOC’s staff almost went into a state of consternation when the idea was first mooted. But the general went back suitably impressed.
So what exactly was our modus operandi in 79 Mountain Brigade when we conducted a cordon-and-search operation, including the famous ‘khopdi’ drill?
The first step was always to get the maximum information on the terrorists’ activities and their presence in a given area, and more importantly, to get actionable intelligence in real time. Sometimes this intelligence would come from our own sources and at other times, from the higher HQs. Frequently, the commanding general would call me to his office or residence, and we would discuss and work out the broad operational plan based on the information provided by the sources. Before meeting the general, I would issue the warning order for the mission to the unit concerned.
This would set in motion the preparations for the operation by the troops. With an aim of deception, the vehicles were lined up facing the wrong direction. Very often I would order the movement to be on foot all the way to the target – a rapid march at night covering up to 20 kilometres or so. Surprise is indeed critical for success and in my opinion, it is one of the most important principles of war. In fact, I advised all junior leaders to ask themselves whether the plan they had evolved had an element of surprise or not. In case the answer was ‘no’, that plan would have to be trashed and a new one devised.
Generally, the plan involved convergence on the objective from two or three directions. The outer cordon would be established well before first light and the noose tightened at twilight. This kind of encircling action confused the terrorists, and made it difficult for them to escape even if they got wind of our movements during the night. In case anyone attempted to break through the cordon before daybreak, the person would be challenged and asked to stop. If the person tried to run away, we would first try and apprehend the individual, and when compelled, open fire. At night, the villagers generally stayed indoors and rarely ventured to go out. Besides, we had warned the people that in case of an emergency, they should make use of a lantern or torch while moving around. On the other hand, the terrorists moved about in a furtive manner at night and avoided making any noise. In fact, on many occasions, they ordered the Kashmiri villagers to do away with their dogs, so that their movements were not announced by the sound of barking.
After daybreak, we would enter the village and ask all men to assemble in a central place like a school or the Idgah. Women, children and the elderly were told to stay at home. We would then commence the search of the village in a systematic manner, based on the intelligence provided by the sources. Our endeavour was to prevent the trapped terrorists from moving from one hideout to the other. We had to isolate each locality or ‘mohalla’ before commencing search operations. It was ensured that a local police constable and a village elder accompanied every search party.
A clearance was obtained in writing after a house was searched so as to safeguard our soldiers from false accusations later. Many terrorists were detected and caught from hideouts and cavities cleverly made under the floor, behind the walls, or in the attics. Some were caught hiding in the cattle sheds. At times there were shootouts between our troops and the hiding terrorists. Some of these hideouts were very ingeniously configured and camouflaged, and thus remained undetected. Once a terrorist was captured from a house, the owner begged forgiveness. His plea would be that the terrorists threatened him with dire consequences if he refused to cooperate. That was indeed so in most cases – they had to acquiesce to save their lives.
While the search operation was on, it was my practice to address the men folk who had been assembled at a central place. Moreover, during this period, they were also screened individually and made to pass by a ‘cat’, a spotter who was a former terrorist. Anyone identified and pointed out by the cat was segregated and questioned separately.
I considered targeting and influencing the minds of the people more important than catching or killing a few terrorists. Winning their hearts and minds with the velvet-glove approach and a humane touch was an important facet of counter-insurgency operations in my command. My talk and interaction with the people, conducted in Urdu, would go something like this:
Dear brothers and fellow Kashmiris. I feel sorry to put you through the inconvenience caused by the crackdown (the name given by the locals to a cordon-and-search operation). But were it not on account of the reported presence of terrorists in this area, we wouldn’t be here.
We are the army of the people, and are here for your security. You are our countrymen, and I firmly believe that over 95 per cent of you are innocent. My troops will treat you with respect and your dignity will be upheld. There shall be no misbehaviour with women, harassment of the children and the elderly people, or wilful damage and destruction of your property.
Terrorism has turned your beautiful state into a veritable hell. God had given you a paradise. What will your children inherit from your generation? Maybe a generation or two would never see peace and prosperity. Progress will remain a chimera. Without your cooperation, terrorism cannot be rooted out. Look at Mizoram and Punjab. It was only when the people stopped supporting the terrorists, peace could prevail. Those people are now enjoying the ‘peace dividend’. Do the terrorists realize or care as to how much damage they are causing to their own community?
I hear your refrain very often, ‘Jenaab, ham to aapki aur jehadi bandook ke beech me mare ja rahe hai’ (Sir, we are caught in between two guns, one of the army and the other of the jehadi). I can say with confidence that we are fully responsible and accountable, ‘jimmewar’ and ‘jawabdar’, as far as our actions are concerned, but the same cannot be said for the jehadis. If you don’t display courage, nothing will change. Put up a united stand – they dare not even touch you as long as you are all together.
What is it that they are promising you, ‘Azaadi’? It is not so, as they have an ‘agenda’ of their own. What ‘azaadi’ are they talking about? With just a flag, a small landlocked area like the valley cannot be ‘azaad’ in a meaningful way. It would be a state always at the mercy of others. And if the neighbours choose to block the roads and cut off the valley, you would be on your knees. Kashmir does not produce everything the people need. Your needs will, therefore, have to be met by imports from outside of Kashmir. We must draw the lessons from what is happening in the rest of the world. Europe is witnessing the emergence of the European Union, wherein all countries of that region have got together for a brighter future for their citizens. Boundaries are hardly visible, enemies have become friends, and the economic power of that block of countries is growing.
They (the jehadis) are using you; your children are the sacrificial goats! I am very moved when I see youthful lives snuffed out so needlessly. The lifeless bodies of young, handsome and innocent lads whose faces reminded me of my son and made me feel sorry for these poor Kashmiri boys. They were armed to the teeth and carrying the AK-47 – the death warrant, as I would call it. Does any country allow people carrying weapons to infiltrate across their borders? Did you give birth to them to die in this manner? Where are the children of the ‘tanzeem’ (jehadi organizations) leaders? Getting degrees and higher education in Bombay, Bangalore or abroad! How many of them have died for this ‘cause’? Who are the people making palatial houses all over Kashmir, and where is the money coming from? Please ask these questions to the ‘khalifas’ or the leaders of the ‘tanzeems’ when we finish our operation and go away. (Recently, much noise was created when Asiya Andrabi, the head of a belligerent Kashmiri women’s organization named ‘Dukhtaran-e-Millat’, wanted her son to go to Malaysia for higher studies – I had advised the Kashmiris to beware of such leaders twenty years ago!)
Meanwhile, one of my officers would hand over to me my AK-47, which I never failed to carry. At the same time, much to everyone’s astonishment, a soldier would fix a small target with the picture of a ‘skull and crossed bones’ on the nearest tree. I would then load the rifle in a swift motion, and ask someone sitting in the audience as to which part of the target I should aim at. The bullet would be out with a loud bang before I received the response to my question. I seldom missed the centre of the target. I would fire a few more shots at the target. This had a spellbinding effect on the audience. At times, the womenfolk would come running towards the congregation thinking of the worst.
I then made the point that as a brigade commander, it was not my job to shoot, but to make plans and evolve the strategy. Yet if I could still hit the bullseye, my men could shoot through a coin. Therefore, what chance did novices like their son or brother have against the well-trained soldiers of the Indian Army? It would be an unequal fight.
After this, I would have a handwritten letter read out by one of the young men sitting in the gathering. This letter, from the person of a dead terrorist, was from someone undergoing training in a camp located in ‘Ilaqa Gair’, the no-man’s-land between Pakistan and Afghanistan, to his family back home. Unfortunately, a bullet had stopped its courier from reaching his destination. Not only had the projectile pierced through the chest of the terrorist, it also went through this letter found in his breast pocket. It read something like this:
… Mai yahaan par theek hoon. Allah ke raham se aap sabh theek honge. Yahaan ke halaat bahut kharab hai. Yeh log hamko sabz baag dikhaate rahe. Asli baat kuch aur hai. Hamse barha bewaqoof koi nahin ho sakta. Ham inki baton men aa gaye. Aur kisi ko yahaan mat aane dena…. (I am okay here. With the grace of Allah, I hope you all are fine. The conditions here are terrible. These people have been showing us gardens which appear greener than they actually are. The reality is something else. There is no one who is a bigger fool than us. We got taken in by their words. Don’t let anyone else come here….)
Continuing my interaction, I would go on:
Dear Kashmiri brothers, get a hold of your destiny. The outsiders have come with their own designs. They have no love lost for you and your future generations, who are being made to pay the price for this violence and strife. There is much talk in the valley of ‘azaadi’ or freedom. Jammu and Kashmir is much more than the valley. Therefore, it would be wrong to assume that the people from the valley represent all Kashmiris. We have to bear in mind that there are diverse views on this issue. We cannot ignore the people of other areas and regions of J&K such as Jammu, Udhampur, Doda, Kishtwar, Poonch, Kargil and Ladakh. This state also comprises swathes of territory in Gilgit, Skardu, Hunza, and other parts of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir such as Muzzafarabad and Mirpur (Map 11.1 and Panorama 11.1). What about them?
The valley, with a small area about 55 kilometres wide and 108 kilometres long, would be unviable as an independent entity. India is an emerging power and a subcontinent with huge natural resources and a large population. Perhaps a way could be found by a dialogue on the basis of more autonomy. Kashmir has always been a part of Hindustan, encircled by the Hindu Kush and Karakoram ranges to its north and northwest, and the Pir Panjal and Shamsabari ranges in the south and west. It has been one of the cradles of the Indian civilization since early days, and evolved as a homogenous ‘melange’ of Brahmanism, Buddhism, Islam, Sikhism and Sufism.
Panorama 11.1: Vale of Kashmir (Courtesy: Shanta Serbjeet Singh).
The ruins of the magnificent ancient temples at Martand, Harwan and Awantipur, which your ancestors built centuries ago and which have been described in the scriptures, reveal the greatness of your culture. Those huge blocks of granite didn’t fall from the skies. So how can you forget your history, beliefs and way of life, particularly the spirit of Kashmiriyat derived from the philosophy propounded by famous saints like Sheikh Noor-ud-Din or Nund Rishi? He was also known as ‘Allamdar-e-Kashmir’, and is regarded by all of you as the patron saint of Kashmir. History tells us that your forefathers embraced Islam around the twelfth century. Therefore, you cannot disown your ancestors whose blood flows in your veins and your heritage.
Despite the imperfections we are a vibrant democracy. You have been participating in the election process for over four decades. Why don’t the leaders of the jehadis stand for elections and serve the people if they are able to get the mandate? The fact is peace and progress don’t suit them or fit into their scheme of things. The outsiders are imposing on you a way of life that goes against the grain of your culture. As written by one of your ilk in the letter that was just read out, they are misleading everyone. Whatever customs and practices they are forcing on you and your womenfolk in Kashmir, why aren’t they being insisted upon in Karachi, Lahore or Islamabad?
Muslims who chose to migrate to Pakistan at the time of Partition stand permanently branded – they are referred to as ‘mohajirs’ [refugees] even today. Did they make a mistake? In comparison, my grandparents and their entire clan of Khatri Punjabis left their lands and property in Rawalpindi, Lahore, or Gujaranwala areas, and migrated to India. My father was a lieutenant colonel, and I have risen to the rank of a brigadier. Likewise, all others have resurrected themselves admirably. We are proud Indians, and no one refers to us as refugees.
Take the case of the Bihari Muslims who sided with the Pakistan Army and even laid down their lives during the Indo-Pak war of 1971, when Bangladesh was created. They were given assurances that they would be resettled in Pakistan. They are having a miserable existence in camps in Bangladesh even today, as Pakistan has been unable to give them a place to resettle in. Weren’t they loyal and good Muslims?
You must, therefore, neither entertain any wrong notions nor be under false illusions. Pakistan will continue to do its best to keep the fire simmering in Kashmir. Don’t get taken for a ride any longer, my wise Kashmiri brothers. It is time for you to say enough is enough!
This is the manner in which I used to interact with the villagers, and convey my ideas as the brigade commander to the mostly ignorant populace – the suffering poor of the valley. In the meanwhile, my units and sub units would complete their assigned operational tasks and thereafter, we would return to our base.
The 15 Corps commander, Lieutenant General Zaki’s assessment in 1991 that there was large-scale infiltration taking place in the north Jhelum sector, the corridor between the Shamsabari and the Jhelum river – was proved right by the phenomenal successes my units began to achieve. The previous brigade commander had claimed that not even a bird could get through his sector undetected and that no infiltration was taking place. The results produced by us definitely surprised him the most.
We intercepted and neutralized a number of infiltrating groups within a period of about eight months in 1991. Terrorist organizations like the Hizbul Mujahideen, Lashkar-e-Toiba and Jaish-e-Mohammad, and their mentors across the LoC found the new counter-infiltration set-up in the Baramulla sector fairly difficult to penetrate. They identified me as the thorn in their flesh, as other than a change of command of the sector, nothing much had changed in the force level or deployments. Therefore, they decided to do away with me, and began making plans to achieve this mission. My formation was referred to as the ‘Shaitan’ (Devil) Brigade, and I was nicknamed as ‘Shaitan’ Singh. I was happy with both these appellations. It signified that we had been able to put the fear of God in the ‘tanzeems’.
We launched a number of seek-and-destroy missions. The majority of the population acted as fence-sitters during such operations, keenly watching the contest between the jehadis and the army. As was expected, they usually gravitated to the winning side, and we appeared to them as clear winners due to our professional approach and the results of engagements. The terrorists were no match for us and the outcome showed it. We hardly lost any of our men, whereas we killed or apprehended many terrorists. Gradually, we won the people over to our side, specially in the rural ‘kandi’ (foothills) belt.
We always kept our principle ‘iron-fist-and-velvet-glove’ uppermost in our minds. This phrase was used by me during this tenure as a brigade commander. The iron fist was for the terrorist while the velvet glove was for the people, a vast majority of whom were innocent. We ensured that collateral damage was confined to the barest minimum. I had zero tolerance for any human rights violations, and made my views clear to all of my subordinates. The projection of the humane face of the army has always been my aim. By killing a terrorist or two the insurgency won’t come to an end, but by killing or maiming innocents we were going to create many more terrorists. Very often I used to advise my COs to let go of an odd terrorist, in case the action to get him was going to lead to loss of innocent lives or cause unreasonable collateral damage.
A particular CO once told me that I was flogging his troops. He had mustered the guts to say so either because he knew that his confidential report would not be written by me or else, he was convinced that his troops were really overstretched. When this incident happened, 7 Sikh, the battalion in question, was deployed near the LoC. The next morning, I walked up to the Battalion HQ. It was a tough march uphill all the way and it took me about two hours or so. Besides, it was my third trip there in as many months. When I questioned the CO as to what prompted him to make such a remark, he tried to make excuses to justify that his battalion was fully stretched.
‘How many times has the previous commander been here in the last one year?’ I asked.
‘Once, Sir,’ was the colonel’s reply.
‘Look here, my friend, this is my third visit to your unit and therefore, if I am not sparing myself then you and your battalion jolly well get used to it. We are all here to do our assigned missions to the best of our abilities. Do you get me?’
‘Yes Sir’, he said. Things fell into place without any problems thereafter.
Earlier, another incident happened with the same unit. I got a call from their previous brigade commander, who asked me to let the CO visit his administrative base at Uri at least once a week. I did not agree as I felt that the operational situation demanded the presence of the CO. Infiltration was increasing and the challenge had to be met. I was okay with the CO going to Uri once in a while but not every week. But the brigadier carried on and on, and tried to convince me of how important it was for the colonel to visit his rear HQ. Finally, I proposed to the brigadier that since he was insistent, the CO could remain at Uri permanently. I would be quite content if all operational responsibilities were entrusted by him to the second-in-command. That was the last I ever heard on this issue.
Soon this battalion carried out a successful operation and effectively intercepted and eliminated a large group of heavily-armed infiltrators. That was the beginning of their success story. The battalion ended up with a large number of decorations because of their hard work, and the CO was proudly wearing a Sena Medal for his gallant leadership less than a year later. His citation had been initiated by me. He apologized for his earlier remarks, and in an accolade-filled demi-official letter to me, expressed his grateful thanks. Surely, 7 Sikh, the Choinar Battalion and its CO would always remember this eventful tenure.
The new corps commander, Lieutenant General Surinder Nath, visited me during the latter half of 1991. Since I had only ad-hoc arrangements for my office, I decided to brief him on the ground. He landed by helicopter and I gave him a rundown of the operations we were conducting. He appreciated the work being done by us. I told him I could do even better if he gave me additional troops and financial support to reward the sources and agents who were giving us information on the terrorists. He assured me of a positive response, and wished us good luck before returning to the Corps HQ.