“IN PEACE, SONS bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons,” said Herodotus 2,500 years ago.
When terrorism spreads, who knows who will perform whose last rites? Everyone is bereaved, not just sons and fathers. Mourning becomes mankind.
War was in the air when I graduated from the Indian Military Academy in June 1971. I was all of 20, like other second lieutenants from my batch.
War broke out in December and within two weeks India liberated Bangladesh. There were cries for capturing Pak-occupied Kashmir, but India wisely desisted.
The war left 6,000 Pakistani soldiers dead. India lost 2,000 soldiers. Thousands more lay wounded on both sides. Hundreds of civilians perished near the border, their houses reduced to rubble.
From my own batch, Arun Khetarpal battled on the western front till his last breath, standing defiantly in his burning tank. He was honoured with the Param Vir Chakra. His father, Brigadier M.L. Khetarpal, performed the last rites.
Years later, at age 81, the father went to Sargodha, his birthplace in Pakistan. Brigadier Khwaja Mohammed Naser received him in Lahore. After visiting Sargodha, he stayed with Naser and family for three days. They treated him with great respect.
On the night before Khetarpal’s departure, Naser revealed that Arun had died fighting him. He said: ‘Arun’s courage was exemplary. He was totally unconcerned about his safety. Tank casualties were very high. Finally there were just two of us left, facing each another. We both fired simultaneously. It was only later that I got to know how young he was and who he was.’
Khetarpal sat silently. It was wrenching to be the guest of the man who had killed his son. Yet the soldier in him admired his gallant host, whose tanks Arun had destroyed.
This poignant story tells us that compassion transcends nationalism that seemingly divides us.
Warmongers in India were angry when the government accepted a ceasefire during Operation Sindoor. They lamented that a chance to annex PoK had been lost.
Politicians accused Prime Minister Modi of bowing to US wishes. Unhinged saffron trolls abused Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri, who had announced the truce. A BJP minister demeaned himself with a communal comment about Col Sofiya Qureshi, who briefed the media. The comment clouded India’s message to the world about its secular strengths and gender strides.
As a former general reminded the armchair bloodhounds, war is no Bollywood movie. The raison d’être of the armed forces is to fight a war if need arose. But soldiers do not desire war. They stand for peace.
How should India react to terrorism? Modi is unambiguous: if Pakistan sponsors terrorists, India will hit them inside Pakistan.
But to achieve the objective, India must build a strong military. We cannot have a strong military without a strong economy. There cannot be a strong economy without social harmony. Businesses do not thrive, nor foreign investments grow, in a polarised society bedevilled with conflict.
Terrorism will not vanish even if Pakistan is militarily defanged or breaks up on its own. As its defence minister Khawaja Asif admitted, Pakistan has done the dirty work for western powers for long. It cannot put the terrorism genie back into the bottle. Paradoxically, the Pakistan army is its own victim and a victim of religious fundamentalism. Neither the terrorists nor the hawks in its army want peace. They derive power through the gun.
India needs a robust intelligence network to fight terrorism internally. Simultaneously, it must ruthlessly deal with religious zealots and rabid ultra nationalists. Treating all castes and religions even-handedly is as vital as building a powerful military.
A peaceful, humane world may still be out of reach. In Bernard Shaw’s play O’Flaherty V.C., the title character says, “You’ll never have a quiet world till you knock the patriotism out of the human race.”
There may be an element of truth in it.
The author is a soldier, farmer and entrepreneur.