R N Kao

by Nitin A Gokhale

  Vappala Balachandran, who worked with RNK from 1975 but had a closer association with him in his post-retirement years, says the raison d’être of R&AW was to be different from the Central Police Organisation. ‘R&AW was always clear about the need to keep the organisation away from the police culture. I am extremely proud to be an IPS officer but when I joined R&AW and stayed on, I realised why Mrs Gandhi had emphasised to Kao the need to recruit R&AW officers from the market, if necessary. Intelligence collection, especially foreign intelligence collection, is a completely different cup of tea. Unlike the police or the IB, there is no support system abroad. One has to live by one’s wit and be as inconspicuous as possible,’ said Balachandran, who had several key foreign postings abroad,

  B. Raman, one of the rare R&AW officers to have written extensively about the organisation’s functioning, its successes as well as failures, notes, ‘When the organisation came into being, Indira Gandhi gave it many special dispensations, such as exempting it from the purview of the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) in matters of recruitment and promotions, powers of sanction of foreign tours, etc. The head of the R&AW wore two hats. As the head of the organisation, he used to send proposals for director recruitment, sanction of posts, foreign travel, etc. to the Cabinet Secretariat. As a Secretary in the Cabinet Secretariat, he had these proposals examined and sanctioned. The idea was that if the R&AW was to be effective as an external intelligence agency, it should not be subjected to the usual red tape. The grant of these special dispensations demanded that the head of the R&AW exercised these powers objectively with a deep sense of responsibility.’8

  Nair, who had worked very closely with RNK and had, in fact, succeeded him in Ghana, was asked by Kao if he would join him in building a new organisation that Indira Gandhi had sanctioned. He describes the circumstances under which he agreed to join R&AW. ‘The Prime Minister had accepted Ramji’s paper and asked him to help the new organization which he had started building. He invited me for lunch one day, explained the developments in the matter and said, “Shanks, will you join me in this task? I know the new boss of the IB has denied you your rightful promotion. I’ve not got an equivalent rank in the organization, but I shall try my best to get it for you.” I replied yes. I would love to join you in the pioneering job as a close friend and colleague. To hell with the rank.’ It was, perhaps, one of the most important the two old friends and colleagues would have had over lunch. RNK and Nair made a formidable combination and nurtured the R&AW in its formative years to make it one of the best intelligence outfits in the world.

  However, from very early of its existence, the R&AW was a victim of bureaucratic apathy and peer jealousy. The MEA and the IB were naturally unhappy with the formation of the R&AW. IB, because of its prized domain in foreign intelligence, was taken away and the MEA felt that the new organisation would impinge upon its exclusive preserve.

  Yet, RNK persisted—thanks to his close friendship with Haksar and implicit faith that Mrs Gandhi had showed in him—and had the organisation up and running quickly. But bureaucratic hurdles continued to dog the R&AW.

  In February 1969, less than five months after the R&AW was formed, Haksar prevailed over Mrs Gandhi to write a detailed note on file to smoothen R&AW’s functioning since it had fallen victim to bureaucratic tussle. Kao had strongly objected to the attempts by bureaucratic juniors who were trying to control and direct R&AW’s functioning. RNK was outraged. He took the matter to Haksar who concurred with him on the point that ‘no intelligence organisation can function in this fashion,’ and that the head of the R&AW needs to have full powers and functional independence from the usual bureaucratic ways.

  The note written to the Cabinet Secretary is worth reproducing in full here. ‘The functioning and operation of a Foreign Intelligence Operation is an extremely sensitive and delicate matter. I’m convinced that unless the head of the organisation is allowed the necessary power and autonomy, to function as an Additional Secretary under the overall supervision of the Cabinet Secretary himself, the organisation will run into great many difficulties. The head of the Research and Analysis Wing having been appointed as Additional Secretary, it is in the interest of security and efficiency of work that he should function as such with all the powers, including financial powers normally exercised by Additional Secretaries and that the organisation should be treated as an integral part of the Cabinet Secretariat. I see no objections to secretarial designations being given to officers of the Research and Analysis Wing where it is necessary to do so. For dealing with matters relating to the organisation’s administration, establishment and finances, a separate administrative cell should be created in the Cabinet Secretariat. However, it should work under the Additional Secretary and should examine establishment and financial proposals made by the Research and Analysis Wing in consultations with its concerned officers. When necessary, it should make its recommendations to the Cabinet Secretary through the Additional Secretary.’9

  Nair too remembered the initial friction with different departments. ‘Foreign desks in the IB were transferred to R&AW from the IB. Hooja, the new IB director, fought tooth and nail to deny us the chattels of office, like buildings, furniture, account staff and good personnel. But along with my good colleague Hassanwalia, we fought back fang and claw and got R&AW firing on all cylinders,’ he wrote.10

  Operationally, the R&AW indeed got off to a good start, aided initially by all those who used to work on the IB’s foreign desk, which now stood transferred to India’s new foreign intelligence organisation. The bureaucratic sniping, however, did not cease so easily. As the R&AW expanded, it wanted to establish new stations abroad after careful assessment and analysis.

  In June 1970, RNK was forced to write a note to Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul, drawing his attention to the delay in clearing two proposals sent by the R&AW. The note said, ‘Given below are the brief particulars of two proposals, action regarding which has been held up in the MEA: (i) Establishment of new units for external intelligence work in our missions at Paris, Bonn, Istanbul, Hanoi, Phnon Penh, Suva (Fiji), Mauritius and Trinidad; (ii) Creation of a post in the R&AW for liaison work relating to the foreign intelligence requirements of the MEA. The post is to be that of a director, and should be filled by an officer of the IFS whose services may be made available to the R&AW on deputation from the MEA. A similar liaison cell has already been formed in the R&AW for the intelligence requirements of the Defence Services Headquarters. It is headed by a Major General, supported by three officers of the rank of Brigadier and other junior staff.’11

  The original proposal with detailed justification for establishment of each of these stations and more was given to the MEA in December 1969. RNK wanted 13 stations to be established. Kaul, the Foreign Secretary pared the demand down to eight listed above. The MEA was to give its concurrence to the R&AW proposal and forward it to the Finance Ministry for ‘necessary financial sanction.’

  It is interesting to note how the stations that the R&AW wanted to establish half a century ago continue to be important. In its note, the R&AW had given the following justification for each of them:

  Paris and Bonn: During the recent years, France has become the major supplier of sophisticated weapons to various countries of Africa and Asia. Pakistan has been trying to equip several squadrons of its Air Force with Mirage aircraft, apart from her attempts to acquire French submarines. There have also been reports of Pakistani negotiations to secure tanks through various European countries including West Germany. This country is also one of the major sources of technical know-how in rocketry and aerodynamics, which China is known to be trying to acquire. It is, therefore, necessary that we should have a presence in Paris and Bonn to be able to obtain information about Pakistani and Chinese efforts in this direction, and other connected developments which concern our security.

  Istanbul: This port town has become one of the important centres of espionage and counter espionage in Turkey. In the years since the Second World
War, Turkey being the common link between various military alliance, and has acquired a peculiar importance of its own. Much of what happens there is of direct interest to us because of Pakistan’s close association with that country. Istanbul is the headquarters of the Turkish cargo lines apart from a number of important defence institutions which are located there, such as the Turkish Defence College, where Pakistani personnel are also sent for training. A good number of Turks visit Pakistan for various purposes from Istanbul. They constitute a rich potential for our work. In view of this, it is of urgent importance that a unit of the R&AW be established at Istanbul under the supervision of a senior officer of this organisation.

  Hanoi and Phnon Penh: In South East Asia, North Vietnam and recently Cambodia have come to occupy a position of special importance as being the scene of unfolding Chinese policies in this whole region. We had an officer of the rank of First Secretary at Hanoi until 1962 when the post was abolished. Hanoi being of vital importance in the developments in South East Asia, this capital provides an ideal listening post for us. Therefore, it would be very desirable for us to be able to re-establish our presence in Hanoi at an early date. The importance of Cambodia in the current fast-developing situation of Indo-China is self-evident. In view of our immediate interest in this area, and the need to study Chinese policies and her intentions, it is necessary to establish a unit of the R&AW in Phnon Penh.

  Mauritius, Fiji and Trinidad: Mauritius, particularly after the closure of the Suez, has regained its importance as the ‘key to the Indian Ocean’. The MEA are aware of our interest in Mauritius and the security and intelligence agencies operating in this island. Detailed proposal for establishing a unit of the R&AW in our mission in this country has been sent separately to MEA. Fiji provides a strategic position in the Pacific Ocean. Trinidad provides an important listening post for covering developments of relevance to us in the Caribbean Sea and the adjoining parts of South America. We have a vital and growing interest in these three countries. In view of the present demography, there is a large number of people of Indian origin. These units would be used as listening posts as well as jumping boards for launching clandestine operations and servicing them.12

  Despite the bureaucratic jostling, Kao and Nair were clear that the R&AW needed to have good functional relationship with the two main consumers of foreign intelligence, the MEA and the three service headquarters. In a note dated 7 May 1970, RNK wrote, ‘In view of the special importance which the R&AW must attach to the requirements of foreign intelligence of the Ministry of External Affairs, it is felt necessary to establish another special facility in this organization, for carrying out liaison duties in relation to this aspect of our work. The officer in charge of it would be utilised to help transmit to the operational desks in the R&AW, the intelligence needs of the Ministry of External Affairs and the relevant priorities. Simultaneously, he would convert to the Ministry of External Affairs the R&AW’s operational considerations, and explain the parameters of its work. This is a very delicate task requiring a full understanding on the one hand of the expertise of foreign intelligence clandestine operations, and on the other, a feel for the political and diplomatic considerations which weigh with the ministry of external affairs.’13

  He went on to emphasise the importance of posting a director-level officer in the R&AW to function as a link between the MEA and the newly created foreign intelligence organisation. RNK pointed out that a military liaison cell, headed by a Major General, had recently been formed in the R&AW headquarters. ‘Its functions are to interpret the requirements of the defence services to the R&AW, and to help fix the targets for military intelligence and their priorities, apart from presenting when necessary, the intelligence furnished by us through the defence services in the correct perspective. This cell will also be utilised for assisting in the training and the briefing of our officers and in diverse other ways, where their special knowledge and experience would be useful.’14

  The spadework, which the new organisation’s leadership did in the first couple of years of its existence, was to make a huge difference in its operations in East Pakistan in 1971, prior to the outbreak of hostilities there leading to the subsequent war with Pakistan in December 1971 and the creation of Bangladesh.

  1 Nitin A. Gokhale, 1965: Turning the Tide: How India Won the War (New Delhi: Bloomsbury, 2015).

  2 Interview to Outlook.

  3 Nitin A. Gokhale, 1965: Turning the Tide: How India Won the War (New Delhi: Bloomsbury, 2015).

  4 K. Sankaran Nair, Inside IB and RAW: The Rolling Stone that Gathered Moss (New Delhi: Manas Publications, 2019).

  5 Ibid.

  6 B. Raman, The Kaoboys of R&AW: Down Memory Lane (United States, Lancer Publications, 2007).

  7 Ibid.

  8 Ibid.

  9 Jairam Ramesh, Intertwined Lives: PN Haksar and Indira Gandhi (New Delhi: Simon and Schuster, 2018).

  10 K. Sankaran Nair, Inside IB and RAW (New Delhi: Manas Publications, 2019).

  11 Opening of new units of the R&AW in our diplomatic missions abroad. P.N. Haksar papers, Subject File No. 227, NMML, New Delhi.

  12 Ibid.

  13 Ibid.

  14 Ibid.

  TEN

  Watching the Neighbourhood

  In the mid- and late 1960s, after nearly two decades of relative stability post the Second World War, the world was in turmoil again. The student protests in France, the fight for civil liberties in the US, the attempted uprising in Prague and the Woodstock moment, all combined to create uncertainty and chaos in Europe and America, sending ripples everywhere. In India, the Naxalbari rebellion launched by two schoolteachers had caught the imagination of the youth in Bengal and beyond; in neighbouring East Pakistan too, Dhaka University became the hub of revolutionary thought.

  East Pakistan’s tallest political leader of that time, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was stepping up his efforts seeking autonomy for the Bengali-speaking half of Pakistan. Mujib was the rising star behind several popular causes, but chiefly behind the language movement in which the Bengali-speaking population protested against the blanket imposition of Urdu as the main language. The inherent contradictions in the creation of Pakistan were coming to head.

  In West Pakistan too—and mainly in its prime cities, Lahore and Karachi—university campuses were boiling over, erupting in protests over several basic shortcomings. Field Marshal Ayub Khan, having ruled Pakistan since 1958 with the full backing of the military, was gradually losing control; Pakistani politicians, led by Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, were on the rise.

  Twenty years after the partition of India and the creation of Pakistan, it was clear that except religion, nothing was common between West and East Pakistan. They were not only separated by 1,600 km of Indian territory but also the two wings had completely different cultures, languages, literature and history. At the time of India’s Independence, the creation of Pakistan as a Muslim state may have suited the British but right from the beginning, it was an artificial construct. Though politically separated from India, East Pakistan always shared the composite culture of undivided Bengal in history, language, literature, art and music. It had little in common with the people of the western wing. The language was an issue of conflict between the two halves of Pakistan. Bangla was the primary language spoken in the eastern wing. On the other hand, Urdu, Punjabi, Sindhi, Baluchi and Pashto were spoken in the four provinces of West Pakistan.

  West Pakistan politicians believed that their country had more in common with the Arab world of West Asia while East Pakistan was more akin to cultures and climate of South East Asia. East Pakistan, with an area of 139,795 sq. km, had a population of 50.84 million, which was much larger than 42.9 million in West Pakistan, according to the 1961 census. The overall numerical superiority of East Pakistan was, however, nullified unjustly under the principle of parity contained in the constitutions of 1956 and 1962. This was always a major irritant in the relations between the two wings.

  West Pakistan was the bastion of
landlords, the all-powerful feudals—the Khans, Chaudharis, Mirs and Waderas. In East Pakistan, by contrast, power was vested in the hands of the educated middle class. The influence of the intellectuals, the teachers and the lawyers on the masses was considerable.

  Shiekh Mujibur Rahman, who had spent considerable time in politics, initially was an enthusiastic volunteer for the Muslim League and later, was an understudy to Huseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy (the last Chief Minister of undivided Bengal before the Partition and later the Prime Minister of Pakistan in the mid-1950s). As a Bengali, Mujib was at the forefront of the language agitation and gained fame as a vociferous proponent of Bengali as a principle language in East Pakistan. He sought more autonomy for the eastern wing, but all available literature suggests that he was not really in favour of breaking up Pakistan—at least not in the late 1950s and early 1960s. The second Kashmir War of 1965 between India and Pakistan, however, appears to have forced a change in Mujib’s outlook.

  President Ayub and his foreign minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, initiated the war in the mistaken belief that they had an upper hand against India. As the war raged on the western front, the Eastern part of Pakistan was left defenceless. It was sheer luck and circumstances that prevented the war from spilling over into the eastern wing of Pakistan.

  The war remained confined to J&K, Punjab and, to an extent, the Rajasthan border. At the end of the war, however, Bengalis from East Pakistan started asking questions: What if India had attacked this part of Pakistan? Why was there not enough security or deployment of forces in the east? Neither Ayub nor his military commanders had a convincing reply. Some military analysts in Pakistan, in fact, told East Pakistani leaders that they need not worry. The Chinese (who by then had started getting close to Pakistan) would come to their rescue by opening a front against India in the east!