DID WE SCREW UP? Oh YES! BIG TIME!
By
Wing Commander Rajesh Khosla
This is a review of a book, titled rather aptly 1962: The War That Wasn't by Shiv Kunal Verma. There have been books on Indian military history and there will no doubt be more books on the subject, but in my humble opinion, this book will stand out for years to come. The victor, we are often told, writes history. Yet for a work to emerge from within the ranks of the vanquished, even half a century after the event, it takes a great deal of courage and conviction. To be able to hold up a mirror that questions all our established myths and beliefs is one thing, to be able to knit a near perfectly credible story takes skill and dedication of the highest order. A lot of reviewers use the term 'a must read' - almost to the point of it being a cliché. In this book's case, it ought to be mandatory.
This is not just some in-your-face 'history' that is done and dusted. Having swept the reality of what happened in the High Himalayas under the carpet, we as a nation seem to have continued with our merry ways. What is perhaps most alarming - and the reason for my writing this article - that the echoes of what happened in the 1950s in the buildup to the Chinese debacle, finds expression in what is happening even today. In my writings thus far, I have often referred to the apex leadership of the three Services as dancing girls. Instead of learning from history and developing a backbone, many of them continue with their unfortunate and bizarre mix of Kathakali and the Bhangra, dancing to the tune of bureaucrats and politicians who, more often than not, have little of no understanding of National Security.
However, before I come back to the book, I digress a bit. Like hundreds of my retired mates, father time has also moth-balled me; however, I will always see myself as a fighter pilot who lived every pulsating moment of my Service life believing I was the sharp end of my country's fire power. We were, or are, the MiG-21 generation, which to my mind, will always be a privileged lot for we were the chosen ones to fly the greatest aircraft that was ever produced. After spending 24 years in service where the only thing that mattered was the country, the country and the country, I finally hung up my uniform in 1992. Back in the civilian milieu, my horizons began to expand, and to my horror I began to realize that there was a lot more to life. Once out of the cocoon of Service life, one was faced with the biggest reality check - the soldier, sailor and airman - despite the slogan shouting at times of war or natural calamities, was at the bottom of the decision-making and social order.
How had this happened? Especially in a nation where an hitherto mercenary army serving the British Crown had so seamlessly shed its earlier avatar and transformed itself into a nationalistic force. By the third week of October in 1947, both the Army and the Air Force had been thrown into combat, together literally pulling the Kashmir Valley out of the fire. Junagad, Hyderabad, Nagaland, Goa - our boys were always there, collectively helping to shape modern India. We were a struggling country then, emerging from the ashes of colonialism. We were not a sophisticated Armed Force, nor were we well paid. Yet we were the cream, or so we believed, for we had unconditional respect from our own people - and with the respect came an aura of invincibility, a combination that can never be bought by money or gold! And then came 1962.
The very aura that sustained India's fighting man began to challenge Prime Minister Nehru, India's first and only 'nominated' leader. Having repeatedly blundered in his reading of Chinese intentions through the early half of the 1950s, the Longju incident blew the cover of Nehru’s China policy. His own political survival under a cloud, a cynical Nehru used VK Krishna Menon as his ‘cats paw’ to not only destroy Thimayya, but with him Lieutenant Generals SPP Thorat and SD Verma. Even the likes of Sam Manekshaw were not spared, as under the garb of ‘civil supremacy’, the decks were cleared for the rise of Bijji Kaul, Nehru’s chosen man for all seasons.
The geo-politics, the early history, the political machinations all come alive before the book takes us through the company and platoon level scenarios which paint the whole picture. However, for the purpose of this essay, I shall restrict myself to the one question that has haunted not just us fighter pilots but also entire military think tanks for decades – why was the Air Force kept out of the conflict with China?
The Eastern Army Commander, Lieutenant General SPP Thorat in March 1960, held exercise Lal Qila, a good two-and-a-half years before the Chinese attacked across the Nam Ka Chu in the east and in the DBO and Chushul Sectors in the west. Was the use of air power discussed then? Yes, it was. Thorat, like Thimayya had served in Korea and the two of them would have been familiar with the desperate fighting between the US and Chinese armies. There too, it was the use of air power that had helped pull the American chestnuts out of the fire. And yet? What did we do?
Without wanting to play the spoiler, let me quote from the book: ‘The problem probably lay in the difference between availability of intelligence and the ability to interpret it. Mullik’s view, that come what may, the Chinese would never attack obviously permeated down ranks in the Intelligence Bureau. No one was willing to rock the boat by offering an opinion contrary to the top man’s view. It was a classic case of the tail wagging the dog!
‘Not only did the IB paint for Nehru a highly exaggerated picture about the PLAAF’s strike capability, it was downright dishonest in its overall appreciation. In March 1962, Lieutenant Liu Chengsze of the PLAAF defected to the USA in Formosa (Taiwan). He had earlier approached the Indians seeking political asylum, offering detailed information about the state of the Chinese air capabilities in exchange. The Indians had refused, but the Americans eagerly accepted the offer. However, the gist of Chengsze’s information had been shared with the Indian Intelligence Bureau. According to the report, despite having over 2,000 aircraft at their disposal, the Chinese could only utilize a fraction of these against India from Tibet.
‘The main reason was the complete reliance on the Soviet Union for aviation fuel and spares. While it was true that the Chinese had used fighters and bombers to neutralize Tibetan resistance fighters in 1958, the quantum of aircraft used was miniscule. Subsequently, with Soviet aid drying up in 1960 after a chill in Sino-Soviet relations, the Chinese were hard-pressed to launch aircraft even in China, let alone Sinkiang and Tibet. Why the Intelligence Bureau chose to deliberately mislead the government and why the air chief failed to arrive at an independent assessment will remain another one of the unsolved mysteries of 1962.’
Verma saves his own comments on the IAF’s role towards the end of the book, coming to the Boys in Blue only in the epilogue.
‘The IB’s assessment of the Chinese air offensive capability knocked the wind out of any offensive plans the IAF might have had. Mullik in his book claims that accurate intelligence about the PLAAF was passed on to Service HQ even before the 18 September meeting. Despite the withdrawal of support by the USSR, the IB felt that the PLAAF, operating from bases in Tibet, Yunnan and even Sinkiang, would have the run of the subcontinent, their bombers could even get to Madras as the IAF had a paucity of night interceptors. Besides, Chinese MiG-17s and 19s plus the newly acquired MiG-21s would wreak havoc on the Indian Canberra bombers because they all had night capability. The final twist to the projected horror story was that Pakistan was also planning to strike at Kashmir the moment hostilities broke out between India and China.
‘There were major flaws in what Mullik and the IB were saying. We have already noted that there were no advanced runways for the PLAAF to operate from, especially low-altitude runways from where aircraft could take off with a regular payload. Second, though China had prevailed on the USSR to delay the supply of MiG-21s to India, they themselves did not have any. Third, the IB hadn’t taken into account the actual performance of the PLAAF in combat, especially when it had run into US-equipped Chinese National Air Force planes operating over Amoy, Shanghai and Canton. Lastly, the IAF, though numerically inferior to the PLAAF, was equipped with quite an impressive array of aircraft—the Hawker Siddeley Hunter and the Gnat were among the most modern subsonic aircraft at that time. In addition, the IAF had the French Ouragan and the Mystère, mainly based in the Western Sector, from where Ladakh was within relatively easy range. In the Eastern Sector, Ouragans,Vampires and Hunters, apart from the Alize and Sea Hawk naval aircraft were available for hitting targets in NEFA and Tibet.’
So here’s my missive to all my mates – both serving and retired, and also those not in uniform. JUST READ THE BOOK! It doesn’t matter if you are a military buff or a peacenik, a man or a woman, a cop or a robber. This country has been betrayed once before, for it was our own leadership that destroyed our army in NEFA and Ladakh. The men never stood a chance. Even today, fifty-three years after the event, we never bothered to build a national memorial for all those who died trying to defend this country. This book is perhaps the biggest memorial for them – it is up to us, the people of this country, to ensure we are never in a similar situation again.
–– Wing Commander Rajesh Khosla
Wg Cdr Rajesh Khosla was born in Lahore, India and did his schooling at St Columba’s, New Delhi. Bitten by the flying bug, he joined the National Defence Academy in June 1963 (30th Course) and passed out in 1966. After a two year training stint at the Bidar Elementary Flying training School, Air Force Flying College, Jodhpur and finally Fighter training Wing, Hakimpet ( Secundrabad), he was commissioned into 220 Squadron on Vampires. Shortly converted to Hunters with 14 Sqn. Being a Cat B Photo interpreter ( a creature in very short supply ) he was withdrawn from active service in the squadron prior to the War and sent to Air Hqs, Directorate of Intelligence to prepare target folders for the impending conflict. He had the unique opportunity to witness the war from the grandstand of the Ops Room at Air Headquarters where there were daily meetings between General Maneckshaw and Air Chief Marshall PC Lal and where it was his privilege to point out the results of yesterday’s operations and intelligence on the reconnaissance photos. Immediately after the War he was converted to the MiG 21 and remained on the Mig 21 thereafter. He served as Chief Flying Instructor at Air Force Academy, Flight Commander 3 Sqn, 15 Sqn and Chief Operations Officer at Awantipur and Cdr 6TAC. He has passed Staff College and was also a member of the Air Force Accident Investigation Board. He took premature retirement in 1992 to join the Airlines.