The McMahon Line- a Century of Discord
Page 33
In pursuance of Nehru’s directive, the Indian civil administration and police began to establish border check-posts during 1954–56. Perhaps at the functional and lower levels, their endeavour was to reach up to or close to the watershed or the well-known passes in the region, but they were careful to remain on the Indian side. At the same time, following an ambiguous policy of both proferring a hand of friendship and asserting their claims to not only Aksai Chin but to other areas of India in the central and eastern Himalayas too, in particular a vast stretch of tribal territory in the north-eastern frontier region of India, then known as North-East Frontier Agency (NEFA), the Chinese began a process of surveying the border areas and asserting their claims.
For the first time in history, as mentioned earlier in this book, Chinese presence was seen in the central Himalayas west of Nepal, in areas such as Nilang–Jadhang, the Barahoti plains, the Shipkila Pass, Kaurik and other places. In most cases they withdrew to the Tibetan side on being cautioned by the Indians about their trespass into Indian territory. Passes like Niti and Shipkila found specific mention in the 1954 Trade Agreement, which sanctified their status as boundary passes, leaving little scope for misinterpretation. Surprisingly, the Chinese displayed a lack of awareness of such historical facts.
From 1956 to 1959, the border issue began its ferment, which found illustration in a flurry of diplomatic protests, claims and counterclaims. It became almost a ritual for both sides to blame each other for acts of aggression or intrusion, and for both sides to also deny them, claiming they were operating in their own territories. This pattern continued until the stage of armed clashes began. Mostly, it was the Chinese with their superiority in numbers and weaponry who used force and caused casualties to Indian border police or Assam Rifles, or manhandled, and at times even illegally detained, Indian paramilitary personnel. Their response to formal Indian protests was that their soldiers had acted in self-defence, under provocation by the Indian border troops. The prominent incidents of such border skirmishes and armed encounters during 1958–59 were at Longju in the Subansiri sector, and at Khinzemane in the Tawang sector. There were incidents at Chang Chenmo and Kongka Pass in the Ladakh sector too.
On 9 September 1962, during a meeting at the MoD held by Defence Minister V.K. Krishna Menon and attended by General Thapar, Chief of Army Staff, Lieutenant General Sen, GOC-in-C of Eastern Command, S.S. Khera, cabinet secretary, Mullik, director of the Intelligence Bureau, S.C. Sarin, a joint secretary in the defence ministry, and some other officials, it was decided that ‘the Chinese must be evicted immediately and forcefully’. Dhola post and Thagla Ridge were Indian territory, as per the Indian understanding. The Chinese, of course, have a different perception regarding Thagla Ridge. Importantly, the pastures to the north of Namka Chu and on the Thagla Ridge belonged to the Indian village of Pangchen (acknowledged by the Chinese too), as had been jointly clarified in a meeting of local officials of both sides in 1953. At that time it had been agreed that the villagers on the Tibetan side of Thagla could continue to use these pastures, as they were willing to pay for the same.37 Over time, Thagla Ridge being the most prominent watershed in the west–east direction, was understood to be the boundary. The Khinzemane border outpost of India was located at the foot of this range, along the Namjyang Chu.
The central sector of the Indo-Tibetan border is comparatively more accessible and populated, and has a clear ethnic, religious and cultural divide. Moreover, in this region, commonly known as the Uttar Pradesh–Tibet border, a historical, traditional and customary boundary exists, leaving little scope for dispute, except in the case of some pastural areas. Thus, the few petty territorial claims involving 540-odd square kilometres in this area would be the easiest to resolve during the process of boundary resolution between India and China.
Chinese maps released in 1954 showed Aksai Chin and small parts of both the Uttar Pradesh–Tibet border and the NEFA within China. Nehru and his advisers had apparently not taken a serious note of these blatant acts of cartographic aggression. And even if they had done so, why did it evoke only a mild protest from our side? It appears that this serious matter was neither raised formally with the Chinese during the first decade of our Independence nor analysed in depth. This is inexplicable! Nehru should have been appropriately counselled by the mandarins of our foreign service and his other key advisers. Instead of being overawed by the personality of the colossus that Nehru was, it was their duty to tell him the hard facts, the sensitive nuances and the harsh ground reality of the northern borders we had inherited from the British. ‘We professionals must share the blame for there being not a single word of dissenting caution,’ admitted Mehta a few years later. He was a former foreign secretary and a hands-on China expert.38
The Chinese leadership were not lacking in clarity at all. They were clear they would not rake up the issue until their strategic communication arteries and other basic elements of infrastructure were completed, particularly the road linking Sinkiang and Western Tibet. Until these objectives were achieved, their leadership kept misleading India on one pretext or the other. Zhou Enlai said the maps of the Koumintang era were old and China had had no time to ‘revise’ them. On another occasion he is reported to have said that the time ‘was not ripe’ to discuss China’s boundary with north-east India.
Unfortunately, India has proved to be only too willing to be beguiled. It is not that there were no indications of the devious intentions of the Chinese, but we failed to follow the leads or to join the dots. Moreover, as a sequel to China’s arbitrary and unilateral cartographic aggression by including in their maps Aksai Chin and NEFA in China, Nehru’s decision to unilaterally define and delimit our northern boundary on Survey of India maps and replace the existing maps in 1954—even though in our case the boundary had been drawn based on historical facts, custom and usage—did not help matters. Both countries should have entered into dialogue and resolved the matter peacefully. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries it had been possible for powerful nations to change boundaries and expand empires or acquire colonies by conquest or coercion, but in the mid-twentieth century the world was unlikely to accept such actions.
In Asia, where the concept of precisely defined and demarcated boundaries between nations did not exist, there were frontier zones and traditional boundaries in areas that were populated. In the regions that were uninhabited or were home to nomadic and shifting populations, boundaries remained vague and undefined. Therefore, in the post-colonial period, most nations in Asia inherited some boundary dispute or the other with their neighbours. It was then not unusual that the entire length of the 4,057-kilometre frontier between India and the Sinkiang and Tibet regions had not been defined unambiguously, particularly the segment from the tri-junction of India, Afghanistan and China to the Karakoram Pass and onwards to Nepal. The British, during their rule of India, were unable to get the Chinese to commit to an agreed boundary line in this region, and ended up bequeathing to independent India this ‘hot potato’ of a vague frontier. The internal situation in India during 1961 is described by Jagat Mehta as follows:
The overriding political fact was that the Prime Minister of India was boxed in by Parliament and the aroused public opinion in the country. It should be emphasized that in April 1960 there was not the remotest apprehension of a major conflict ahead between the armed forces of China and India.39
Under a mistaken belief that the Chinese would not retaliate with force against our setting up posts in territory we believed was ours, a decision was taken by India in early November 1961 to establish posts to fill the vacuums where they existed and to show our flag in areas which we perceived as belonging to us. This chess game–like exercise was indulged in by both sides. But while the Chinese had a clear-cut aim and long-term vision of what they wanted to achieve, the Indians displayed incredible naivety, failing to register, on account of their ostrich-like attitude, the gravity of the boundary problem. The other possibility is they did not want to face the realit
y. Nehru and his close advisers had a firm conviction till the very end that the situation would remain limited to border skirmishing and not result in a major conflagration. Their overwhelming belief, which was shared widely in India till mid-1962, was that China with all her problems would never resort to war against peace-loving India. As revealed in a book on G. Parthasarathy, a renowned diplomat and scholar, Professor Ashok Parthasarathi says, ‘Nehru cautioned GP (G. Parthasarathy) on 18 March 1958, a day before his departure as ambassador to Peking, to always remain vigilant. He said, “I don’t trust the Chinese one bit … They are an arrogant, untrustworthy, devious and hegemonistic lot.” Further, Nehru directed him not to keep anyone else in the loop on “important matters” and to deal directly with him; not even Krishna Menon, the defence minister.’ It is unfortunate that Nehru neither advised his army or other top functionaries of such an assessment of China, nor ordered steps to be taken to prepare militarily for a major confrontation. Our leadership seems to have been living in a world of make-believe and wishful thinking, hoping they could ride out the storm! In the words of Lieutenant General S.K. Sinha, ‘The political and military leaderships appeared tailor-made to lead the nation to disaster.’40
The Chinese consciously did not pursue extension of the 1954 Panchsheel agreement beyond its eight-year limit, which ended in 1962. They did not want to be constrained or tied down by any commitment that would come in their way in case use of force became necessary to assert their boundary claims. It is telling that Deng Xiaoping’s statement that the Indian government, and Nehru in particular, were supporting the uprising in Tibet, concluded with the remarks, ‘and, when the time comes, we certainly will settle accounts with them [Indians] (emphasis added)’.
China’s decision to exercise the war option in the Himalayas was carefully and deliberately taken after assuring itself of the security of the eastern seaboard and also of the support of the Russians, who hoped to have the Chinese on their side during the then ongoing Cuban Missile Crisis as a quid pro quo. Chinese apprehensions of a US-abetted and supported offensive by Taiwan were allayed when the US ambassador in Warsaw, on being questioned by Wang Bingnan, the Chinese ambassador, as to whether preparations were being made for an amphibious assault by the Nationalist forces in Taiwan, replied that ‘the United States desired peace and “under present circumstances” would not support a Nationalist offensive’. According to Ambassador Bingnan, this input ‘played a “very big role” in Beijing’s final decision to proceed with operations in the Himalayas’.41
By early October 1962, the Chinese were fully prepared to strike Indian positions along the disputed border. They were simply looking for an opportunity that would allow them to colour their premeditated onslaught as a ‘counter-attack’, and used Nehru’s ill-advised outburst—‘Throw out the Chinese’—to the hilt to achieve their aim.
At a key meeting on 6 October 1962 on the outskirts of Beijing, after having taken the decision to go to war with India, Chairman Mao Tse Tung said the possible isolation of China on the world stage would not be a ‘… decisive factor … as long as the frontline troops fight well we will be in an advantageous position … It’s better to die standing, than to die kneeling. If China fought successfully, in an awe-inspiring way, this will guarantee at least thirty years of peace (emphasis added).’42
As far as India was concerned, the people were ignorant of the harsh reality of their country’s lack of preparedness for war, the adverse relative strength of our forces vis-à-vis the Chinese, and the poor logistical backup for our army and paramilitary forces deployed on the borders. On our side, there were no roads in most places. On the other hand, the Chinese had given top priority to construction of a network of roads and infrastructure in preparation for any future conflict. Supply of equipment by air in these parts has its limitations and is dependent on weather conditions. In the north-east, the monsoon lasts from June through September, and it rains copiously, definitely more than in Cherrapunji! Despite the warnings given by many Indian military commanders, the political leadership, the powerful head of the IB and key foreign office functionaries, including the ambassador, continued to misread Chinese intentions. So convinced were they that China would never launch an all-out offensive in Ladakh or NEFA that they prevailed upon or silenced saner advice, and continued to meddle in the military aspects of external challenges and the guarding of our borders. Unfortunately, they were eventually able to get key military commanders also to tow their line. Generals like Kaul, the chief of General Staff, and Thapar, the army chief, went along with the faulty strategy of the political leadership and their advisers. In fact, Lieutenant General Kaul pushed the policy of showing the flag as far forward as possible by ordering establishment of section (ten men) or platoon (thirty men) piquets all along the frontier, with no mutual support or reserves to reinforce them in an emergency.
Since the national leadership under Nehru did not expect a war, they were prepared to lose a few soldiers in skirmishes here and there, as had happened in Kongka La or Longju during 1958–59. Not surprisingly, when war was about to break out, the prime minister was abroad on some visit and the defence minister was engaged in a conference at the United Nations. Not to be left behind in the wishful thinking that ‘all is well’ on the borders, even the chief of the General Staff was cooling off in Kashmir that September, and the director of military operations, the man whose responsibility it was to help the army chief evolve military strategy and coordinate its execution, was on a cruise on an aircraft carrier with a parliamentary delegation! A strong army chief would have recalled them. Incredible as these events were, it would have been of immense value if General Thapar’s perspective of this period had been penned by him. He must have had an interesting albeit sad story to recount.
On the dawn of 20 October, the nation and its political and military leadership got a rude jolt as its military disaster began to unravel in a deadly spiral. Deployed in a linear formation on tactically unsound positions in the valley of Namka Chu, 7 Infantry Brigade was overrun in a couple of hours, and the brigade disintegrated, losing a large number of officers and men, who were killed, wounded or captured as prisoners of war. Brigadier J.P. Dalvi, whose brigade faced the major brunt of the Chinese attack, has recalled in his touching account a conversation with Lieutenant Colonel Rikh, one of his commanding officers, on the night of 19 October, just before the Chinese offensive began. The Lt Col’s last words were:
Don’t worry, Sir, despite the Chinese superiority, the Rajputs will not let you or the country down. We will fight till we have nothing more to fight with. If you get back please see that the culprits who landed us in this mess get their just punishment.43
Had the reality of the undelineated and, in some cases, unilaterally drawn boundary, and of the unequal and inadequate fighting capabilities of our forces been shared with the people in general and with parliamentarians in particular, perhaps the clamour of the nation to nudge the government to throw out the ingressing Chinese would have been checked. If only the people of both countries had been told the truth from the beginning, the war could possibly have been averted.
The Chinese onslaught across India’s northern border in October–November 1962 resulted in a shameful politico-military defeat for India and its military. The conflict was confined to the disputed areas along the Sino-Indian boundary. There had been no formal declaration of war by either side. This border war nonetheless shocked the leadership as well as the people of India, making them feel as if they had been stabbed in the back.
Having more or less advanced up to the maximalistic claim line by 21 November 1962, the Chinese unilaterally declared a ceasefire and announced that their forces would fall back to positions 20 kilometres behind the Line of Actual Control (as on 7 November 1962) in Ladakh area and the McMahon Line in NEFA. This they completed by 1 March 1963.
However, the world did not get fooled. It unhesitatingly branded the Chinese as the aggressor. In his book, Mehta writes: ‘I told him (Chang
Wen-chin, Chinese team leader during the official talks in 1960) that the Sino-Indian War was a tragedy born of mutual misjudgements.’ We probably did not know that the Chinese would consider our Forward Policy provocative, but the Chinese had made a big blunder by accusing Nehru by name as responsible for the ‘revolt in Tibet’. Surprisingly, he did not demur.44
What surprised not only India but the world at large was the well-orchestrated and publicized unilateral declaration of ceasefire by the Chinese across the entire front and the withdrawal of its forces from there. This decision of the Chinese was communicated to the world media almost at the same time as it was conveyed to the Indian ambassador in Beijing. A rational analysis of this episode leads one to the conclusion that China, having achieved its strategic goals of cutting India down to size and securing its own communication artery from Kashgar to Lhasa, must have attempted an image-building exercise so that it was not adversely publicized as an expansionist state. It also wanted to avoid the huge logistical effort of sustaining its army during the ensuing winter, when most passes would have closed.
PART VIII
THE ENIGMATIC DRAGON
The Chinese style of dealing with strategic decisions: thorough analysis; careful preparation; attention to psychological and political factors; quest for surprise; and rapid conclusion.
—Henry Kissinger1
20
Understanding the Middle Kingdom and the Dragon
While dealing with China, it is vital to gain an in-depth knowledge of its history, geography, culture, strategic thought process and systems; something that independent India’s leadership and their advisers ought to have seriously done. It appears that this was not the case, at least in the first decade and a half of our Independence. Even in the present day, we do not have an adequate number of China experts of the desired level of knowledge of the country, its demographics, its political systems and philosophy, its strengths and vulnerabilities, and its languages. This inadequacy has to be overcome, and our leadership must get itself thoroughly acquainted with the nuances and finer points of Chinese strategy. Our leaders need to be competent enough in China matters to effectively engage with China to resolve the variety of issues that confronts the two nations, the boundary dispute being the foremost. Prof. Srinath Kondapalli, a noted China expert, estimates the number of Chinese experts in India at not more than 100. ‘It is quite shameful that very few Indians focus on China. For 1.1 billion people looking at 1.4 billion people, we are actually understaffed to understand the other side,’ he has remarked. And whatever ‘experts’ there are, not all of them are able to speak and write Chinese.2