Indian Express editorial ( Carnival Society- 7 April ) flays the unrepresentative nature of the Anna movement. Technically, they are right. But, then, technically speaking, it can never be the case that legislators fairly elected from a population work against the interests of that population itself. However, it is so.
So, question the technicality.
Look dispassionately at the Anna wave. Firstly, the numbers may not be as large as those of the Jat movement, but look at the diversity and the methods adopted. Secondly, look at the rate of growth of the movement. Thirdly, the content of what Anna is demanding has still not been publicly opposed by anyone maybe only the form. It is true that some people in the crowd did not know the exact details of the proposed Lokpal bill, but even in their ignorance they were making an 'anti corruption,anti status-quo' point. Or weren't they?
The Anna movement clearly demolishes the success of the existing system to choose legislators who actually legislate for the good of their people. That much is now well established.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Play dice with life - and feel the ultimate pleasure
In the past, I have written at my post career revulsion at soldiers being hired guns. How did that idea ever come to me, a professional soldier. After so many decades, it became clear to me that PERHAPS it came to me as a result of my reading of the following pages for THE MAGUS by John Fowles -
He stood up.
"I have a test for you."
"A test?"
He went into his bedroom, returned almost at once with the oil lamp that had been on the table when we had dinner. In the white pool of light he put what he had brought. I saw a die, a shaker, a saucer, and a pillbox. I looked up at him on the other side of the table, at his severe eyes on mine.
"I am going to explain to you why we went to war. Why mankind always goes to war. It is not social or political. It is not countries that go to war, but men. It is like salt. Once one has been to war, one has salt for the rest of one's life. Do you understand?"
"Of course."
"So in my perfect republic it would be simple. There would be a test for all young people at the age of twenty-one. They would go to a hospital where they would throw a die. One of the six numbers would mean death. If they threw that they would be painlessly killed. No mess. No bestial cruelty. No destruction of innocent onlookers. But one clinical throw of the die."
"Certainly an improvement on war."
"You think so?"
"Obviously."
"You are sure?"
"Of course."
"You said you never saw action in the last war?"
"No."
He took the pillbox, and shook out, of all things, six large molars; yellowish, two or three with old fillings.
"These were issued to certain German troops during the last war, for use if they were interrogated." He placed one of the teeth on the saucer, then with a small downward jab of the shaker crushed it; it was brittle, like a liqueur chocolate. But the odor of the colorless liquid was of bitter almonds, acrid and terrifying. He hastily removed the saucer at arm's length to the far corner of the terrace; then returned.
"Suicide pills?"
"Precisely. Hydrocyanic acid." He picked up the die, and showed me six sides.
I smiled. "You want me to throw?"
"I offer you an entire war in one second."
"Supposing I don't want it?"
"Think. In a minute from now you could be saying, I risked death. I threw for life, and I won life. It is a very wonderful feeling. To have survived."
"Wouldn't a corpse be rather embarrassing for you?" I was still smiling, but it was wearing thin.
"Not at all. I could easily prove it was suicide." He stared at me, and his eyes went through me like a trident through a fish. With ninety-nine persons out of a hundred, I would have known it was a bluff; but he was different, and a nervousness had hold of me before I could resist it.
"Russian roulette."
"But less fallible. These pills work within a few seconds."
"I don't want to play."
"Then you are a coward, my friend." He leant back and watched me.
"I thought you believed brave men were fools."
"Because they persist in rolling the die again and again. But a young man who will not risk his life even once is both a fool and a coward."
And he had me. It was absurd, but I could not let my bluff be called.
I reached for the shaker.
"Wait." He leant forward, and put his hand on my wrist; then placed a tooth by my side. "I am not playing at make-believe. You must swear to me that if the number is six you will take the pill." His face was totally serious. I felt myself wanting to swallow.
"I swear."
"By all that is most sacred to you."
I hesitated, shrugged, and said, "By all that is most sacred to me."
He held out the die and I put it in the shaker. I shook it loosely and quickly and threw the die. It ran over the cloth, hit the brass base of the lamp, rebounded, wavered, fell.
It was a six.
Conchis was absolutely motionless, watching me. I knew at once that I was never, never going to pick up the pill. I could not look at him. Perhaps fifteen seconds passed. Then I smiled, looked at him and shook my head.
He reached out again, his eyes still on me, took the tooth beside me, put it in his mouth and bit it and swallowed the liquid. I went red. Still watching me, he reached out, and put the die in the shaker, and threw it. It was a six. Then again. And again it was a six. He spat out the empty shell of the tooth.
"What you have just decided is precisely what I decided that morning forty years ago at Neuve Chapelle. You have behaved exactly as any intelligent human being should behave. I congratulate you."
"But what you said? The perfect republic?"
"All perfect republics are perfect nonsense. The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night?"
"But the die was loaded."
"Patriotism, propaganda, professional honor, esprit de corps — what are all those things? Cogged dice."
I don't know why it took so many years for the effect to take place. Somehow, the stupidity of any sense of nobility in dying for your country got to me - after almost three decades though.
He stood up.
"I have a test for you."
"A test?"
He went into his bedroom, returned almost at once with the oil lamp that had been on the table when we had dinner. In the white pool of light he put what he had brought. I saw a die, a shaker, a saucer, and a pillbox. I looked up at him on the other side of the table, at his severe eyes on mine.
"I am going to explain to you why we went to war. Why mankind always goes to war. It is not social or political. It is not countries that go to war, but men. It is like salt. Once one has been to war, one has salt for the rest of one's life. Do you understand?"
"Of course."
"So in my perfect republic it would be simple. There would be a test for all young people at the age of twenty-one. They would go to a hospital where they would throw a die. One of the six numbers would mean death. If they threw that they would be painlessly killed. No mess. No bestial cruelty. No destruction of innocent onlookers. But one clinical throw of the die."
"Certainly an improvement on war."
"You think so?"
"Obviously."
"You are sure?"
"Of course."
"You said you never saw action in the last war?"
"No."
He took the pillbox, and shook out, of all things, six large molars; yellowish, two or three with old fillings.
"These were issued to certain German troops during the last war, for use if they were interrogated." He placed one of the teeth on the saucer, then with a small downward jab of the shaker crushed it; it was brittle, like a liqueur chocolate. But the odor of the colorless liquid was of bitter almonds, acrid and terrifying. He hastily removed the saucer at arm's length to the far corner of the terrace; then returned.
"Suicide pills?"
"Precisely. Hydrocyanic acid." He picked up the die, and showed me six sides.
I smiled. "You want me to throw?"
"I offer you an entire war in one second."
"Supposing I don't want it?"
"Think. In a minute from now you could be saying, I risked death. I threw for life, and I won life. It is a very wonderful feeling. To have survived."
"Wouldn't a corpse be rather embarrassing for you?" I was still smiling, but it was wearing thin.
"Not at all. I could easily prove it was suicide." He stared at me, and his eyes went through me like a trident through a fish. With ninety-nine persons out of a hundred, I would have known it was a bluff; but he was different, and a nervousness had hold of me before I could resist it.
"Russian roulette."
"But less fallible. These pills work within a few seconds."
"I don't want to play."
"Then you are a coward, my friend." He leant back and watched me.
"I thought you believed brave men were fools."
"Because they persist in rolling the die again and again. But a young man who will not risk his life even once is both a fool and a coward."
And he had me. It was absurd, but I could not let my bluff be called.
I reached for the shaker.
"Wait." He leant forward, and put his hand on my wrist; then placed a tooth by my side. "I am not playing at make-believe. You must swear to me that if the number is six you will take the pill." His face was totally serious. I felt myself wanting to swallow.
"I swear."
"By all that is most sacred to you."
I hesitated, shrugged, and said, "By all that is most sacred to me."
He held out the die and I put it in the shaker. I shook it loosely and quickly and threw the die. It ran over the cloth, hit the brass base of the lamp, rebounded, wavered, fell.
It was a six.
Conchis was absolutely motionless, watching me. I knew at once that I was never, never going to pick up the pill. I could not look at him. Perhaps fifteen seconds passed. Then I smiled, looked at him and shook my head.
He reached out again, his eyes still on me, took the tooth beside me, put it in his mouth and bit it and swallowed the liquid. I went red. Still watching me, he reached out, and put the die in the shaker, and threw it. It was a six. Then again. And again it was a six. He spat out the empty shell of the tooth.
"What you have just decided is precisely what I decided that morning forty years ago at Neuve Chapelle. You have behaved exactly as any intelligent human being should behave. I congratulate you."
"But what you said? The perfect republic?"
"All perfect republics are perfect nonsense. The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night?"
"But the die was loaded."
"Patriotism, propaganda, professional honor, esprit de corps — what are all those things? Cogged dice."
I don't know why it took so many years for the effect to take place. Somehow, the stupidity of any sense of nobility in dying for your country got to me - after almost three decades though.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Indian Generalship
Recent cases against some Indian army generals are becoming hot news suddenly. However, a slide of this magnitude never happens suddenly or by accident. Like many life threatening diseases, its symptoms surface every now and then but are either not noticed or are brushed under the carpet. Finally, they explode in our face.
The book 'Mask of command' explains how like warfare itself, generalship is a cultural enterprise, providing a key to understanding a particular era or place. John Keegan propounds the view of heroism in warfare as inextricably linked with the political imperative of the age and place. He demonstrates how the role of the general alters with the ethos of the society that creates him.
Indian generalship is only reflecting the political imperatives and societal ethos that commenced in 1947.
It started in 62 itself, where Gen Kaul was a nothing but a political stooge. We lost the war because of that but hid the Henderson Brooks enquiry report from public scrutiny. Thereafter, we had 1965 where the then Chief recommended cease fire to the PM on the basis that we had almost finished our ammo which was nowhere the case. After this came to light, no action was taken against anyone. 1971 did see a new era but operation Bluestar soon followed it. There we had the shameful incident of a General ordering his troops to attack machine gun posts barefooted, forbidden to fire in a certain direction. How he accepted such political interference in conduct and methodology of operations was never questioned by anyone. On the contrary, he went on to be army Chief in his time. Thereafter we had the operations in SriLanka which were run more by the High Commissioner ( Dixit ) than by the army generals. As a consequence, we saw ragtag band of LTTE men merrily attacking units of Indian army that boasted of golden jubilees and centenaries. The army still did not protest. That further emboldened the political masters which eventually led to the politically expedient but militarily expensive frontal assaults of Kargil.
Since that too was not contested by anyone, the moral decline began.
We are only seeing the coming of age of a disease that started long back when political imperatives and societal ethos changed in 1947. This decline is purely of swadeshi ( home grown )origins, a sad but inevitable effect of Indianism.
The book 'Mask of command' explains how like warfare itself, generalship is a cultural enterprise, providing a key to understanding a particular era or place. John Keegan propounds the view of heroism in warfare as inextricably linked with the political imperative of the age and place. He demonstrates how the role of the general alters with the ethos of the society that creates him.
Indian generalship is only reflecting the political imperatives and societal ethos that commenced in 1947.
It started in 62 itself, where Gen Kaul was a nothing but a political stooge. We lost the war because of that but hid the Henderson Brooks enquiry report from public scrutiny. Thereafter, we had 1965 where the then Chief recommended cease fire to the PM on the basis that we had almost finished our ammo which was nowhere the case. After this came to light, no action was taken against anyone. 1971 did see a new era but operation Bluestar soon followed it. There we had the shameful incident of a General ordering his troops to attack machine gun posts barefooted, forbidden to fire in a certain direction. How he accepted such political interference in conduct and methodology of operations was never questioned by anyone. On the contrary, he went on to be army Chief in his time. Thereafter we had the operations in SriLanka which were run more by the High Commissioner ( Dixit ) than by the army generals. As a consequence, we saw ragtag band of LTTE men merrily attacking units of Indian army that boasted of golden jubilees and centenaries. The army still did not protest. That further emboldened the political masters which eventually led to the politically expedient but militarily expensive frontal assaults of Kargil.
Since that too was not contested by anyone, the moral decline began.
We are only seeing the coming of age of a disease that started long back when political imperatives and societal ethos changed in 1947. This decline is purely of swadeshi ( home grown )origins, a sad but inevitable effect of Indianism.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Soldiers are hired guns - hired by questionable MPs
Is being a hired gun a good idea?
A soldier is essentially a hired gun. Hired by the state, but hired all the same. He kills, as told.
In my youth, being a soldier seemed something to be proud of. To be chosen to kill on behalf of the society, the country, the President of India was a badge of honour. Today,I am not so sure. Shorn of all big words,essentially my authority to kill stemmed from the MPs, particularly those of the cabinet. Is there a system to ensure, or even a lame attempt, to ensure that all MPs are good men? Earlier, I either believed so or did not bother. A more experienced man at 57 years, I can now say - They certainly are NOT so. Just look at the news of last 6 months and you'll find out. Should I have killed on Kalmadi's word, or those of A Raja?
Some years back, should I have killed others on the dictates of Phoolan Devi.
All that MPs can claim is that they are popular people. So,I have been proud of having the right to kill on orders of people who were not necessarily right, good, wise or blameless - only people who were popular? If a crowd told me to kill, should I?
The dilemma is also posed in the book/movie - The Day of the Jackal - 'Mercenaries too kill- but at least they themselves choose who to kill'.
Soldiers seem happy handing over this huge responsibility to people who have no known qualification to do so except being popular. In contrast, see the deliberations by judges and the legal system before death sentence is passed even for one individual. And everyone in that system is so qualified.
So, why be proud of being a hired gun - hired by guys who could well be goons.
A soldier is essentially a hired gun. Hired by the state, but hired all the same. He kills, as told.
In my youth, being a soldier seemed something to be proud of. To be chosen to kill on behalf of the society, the country, the President of India was a badge of honour. Today,I am not so sure. Shorn of all big words,essentially my authority to kill stemmed from the MPs, particularly those of the cabinet. Is there a system to ensure, or even a lame attempt, to ensure that all MPs are good men? Earlier, I either believed so or did not bother. A more experienced man at 57 years, I can now say - They certainly are NOT so. Just look at the news of last 6 months and you'll find out. Should I have killed on Kalmadi's word, or those of A Raja?
Some years back, should I have killed others on the dictates of Phoolan Devi.
All that MPs can claim is that they are popular people. So,I have been proud of having the right to kill on orders of people who were not necessarily right, good, wise or blameless - only people who were popular? If a crowd told me to kill, should I?
The dilemma is also posed in the book/movie - The Day of the Jackal - 'Mercenaries too kill- but at least they themselves choose who to kill'.
Soldiers seem happy handing over this huge responsibility to people who have no known qualification to do so except being popular. In contrast, see the deliberations by judges and the legal system before death sentence is passed even for one individual. And everyone in that system is so qualified.
So, why be proud of being a hired gun - hired by guys who could well be goons.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Defence is a non-issue in India
NDTV broadcast an interesting program on 7 Jan 11 evening - Dead (ly) weapons. The program showcased the terrible state of the weapons with our defence forces. It made clear to anyone who cares that Indian defence capability is severely handicapped by lack of modern weapons. As an ex army officer, I always had the dilemma as to why no one cares about this?
Why are the citizens more bothered about loss of money in scams than in the vulnerability of their country? My question was answered towards the close of the program. An ex IAF Chief, who had lamented the sorry state of air weapons throughout the program, assured the country that this lack of preparedness notwithstanding, we will not allow a repeat of 62 ( it is another thing that the IAF was not used in 62, which was a grave error). He guaranteed it. An ex army chief, too, spoke highly of the morale of the army. Hearing this, my dilemma cleared. If two ex chiefs go on record to say that India is safe despite this state of weaponry, why bother?
The fig leaf had been provided.
My take is - we are relying too heavily on the raw courage of our youngsters which can last but 14 days. Just that many to die needlessly. In military history, there is a quote - 'Do not use my men where you can use artillery'. Obviously, the quote could not have come from an Indian General.
The fact is that, overall, we are in a terrible state militarily. Such a shocking state of artillery, submarines and aircrafts should be more unacceptable to a nation than any number of money scams. Even with our known adversaries, we can no longer guarantee success in all scenarios. If we do succeed, it will be at unacceptable cost of human lives. And in case we have to cross swords with a really modern army, we simply had it. No ifs and buts.
Hey, I have just found a humorous analogy for our FAILURE TO RECOGNIZE WHAT’S IMPORTANT: My house is on fire! Quick, call the post office and tell them to hold my mail! My country's defence is at stake. Quick, let me bother about money scams!
Why are the citizens more bothered about loss of money in scams than in the vulnerability of their country? My question was answered towards the close of the program. An ex IAF Chief, who had lamented the sorry state of air weapons throughout the program, assured the country that this lack of preparedness notwithstanding, we will not allow a repeat of 62 ( it is another thing that the IAF was not used in 62, which was a grave error). He guaranteed it. An ex army chief, too, spoke highly of the morale of the army. Hearing this, my dilemma cleared. If two ex chiefs go on record to say that India is safe despite this state of weaponry, why bother?
The fig leaf had been provided.
My take is - we are relying too heavily on the raw courage of our youngsters which can last but 14 days. Just that many to die needlessly. In military history, there is a quote - 'Do not use my men where you can use artillery'. Obviously, the quote could not have come from an Indian General.
The fact is that, overall, we are in a terrible state militarily. Such a shocking state of artillery, submarines and aircrafts should be more unacceptable to a nation than any number of money scams. Even with our known adversaries, we can no longer guarantee success in all scenarios. If we do succeed, it will be at unacceptable cost of human lives. And in case we have to cross swords with a really modern army, we simply had it. No ifs and buts.
Hey, I have just found a humorous analogy for our FAILURE TO RECOGNIZE WHAT’S IMPORTANT: My house is on fire! Quick, call the post office and tell them to hold my mail! My country's defence is at stake. Quick, let me bother about money scams!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Sole responsibility
Just yesterday, I saw a dirty street and I used my pet curse word for the government department responsible for it. My family and friends immediately protested, 'But you can't blame the government alone for it? People too have to assume their part of the responsibility'. And I lost my shirt, again.
The concerned department alone has the responsibility. We pay our taxes and select people who manage the system on our behalf. That's where it ends.
Of course, people are part of the problem. But who is charged with managing the ' people's part of the problem'? Surely, those who have accepted responsibility and get paid for it. They have the power to coax and motivate - and if it doesn't work, to penalise.
So, let them not get away with it.
The concerned department alone has the responsibility. We pay our taxes and select people who manage the system on our behalf. That's where it ends.
Of course, people are part of the problem. But who is charged with managing the ' people's part of the problem'? Surely, those who have accepted responsibility and get paid for it. They have the power to coax and motivate - and if it doesn't work, to penalise.
So, let them not get away with it.
Fallen angels or risen apes
Where we are today, doesn't matter. What matters is whether we are on our way up or way down. The direction of the journey matters.
Claims of a glorious past actually underscore the point that we are fallen from being angels, rather than risen from being apes!
But falling we are, and rising others are.
Kyaa baat hai kuch pyaas zyada lagti hai yahan
Log kehten hain kabhi is jagah par tha kuan
( Why is it that one feels more thirsty at this place? It is because, once upon a time, these used to be a well here )
There should be more pride in saying that my family history starts with me than in saying that mine ends with me.
Claims of a glorious past actually underscore the point that we are fallen from being angels, rather than risen from being apes!
But falling we are, and rising others are.
Kyaa baat hai kuch pyaas zyada lagti hai yahan
Log kehten hain kabhi is jagah par tha kuan
( Why is it that one feels more thirsty at this place? It is because, once upon a time, these used to be a well here )
There should be more pride in saying that my family history starts with me than in saying that mine ends with me.
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