Tackling the Tigers
ASHOK K. MEHTA
NEARLY a decade back, the last batch of the IPKF was ceremoniously forced
out of Sri Lanka’s Trincomalee harbour. A Sri Lankan military band played
the Indian national anthem followed by Auld Lang Syne. Minutes later, the
Indian naval troopship, ins Magar, shoved off. This was the cue for Sri
Lanka’s Defence Minister, Ranjan Wijeratne and Supreme Commander, R.
Premadasa, that all foreign troops had left Sri Lankan soil. The historic
date was 20 March 1990.
In Madras the soldiers were given a lukewarm reception. And instead of Prime
Minister V.P. Singh welcoming them when they touched Indian soil, the troops
were flown to Delhi (and back) from Madras for this ceremony. It was a
strange and contrived homecoming for the IPKF.
On 9 February 1999, the first memorial service dedicated to the 1248
officers and soldiers who fell in Sri Lanka was held in Bhopal under the
aegis of the 21 Corps, born out of the Sri Lankan expedition. Ironically, on
the same day, Indian Army’s eminent thinker and the army chief who launched
the IPKF in Sri Lanka, General K. Sundarji, died. In a sense, IPKF was
Sundarji’s brain child which he later lived to silently regret.
There is no doubt that the IPKF received a raw deal (pun intended) even
before it reached Sri Lanka. There are many interpretations as to the
compulsions for Indian intervention in Sri Lanka. Technically, it was not
intervention as the IPKF had been invited by the President of Sri Lanka who
was to become its supreme commander under the Indo-Sri Lanka Accord (ISLA).
These range from the Indian grand design of establishing a permanent
peacekeeping outpost in the Indian Ocean area, to creating a pan Tamil
geographical entity in Sri Lanka, including the plantation Tamils, to
enhancing its prestige through power projection in its sphere of influence.
But the immediate concerns were more mundane: warding off threats to
internal and external security (of both Sri Lanka and India), possessing
Trincomalee and pre-empting the arrival of forces inimical to regional
security.
The flip side is that the ethnic conflict in Sri Lanka posed no threat to
Indian security and that internal political rather than geostrategic factors
forced the intervention. On balance, and with the benefit of hindsight, it
can be said that India’s as well as Sri Lanka’s politico-military security
concerns were correctly articulated in the ISLA, albeit on a flawed premise
which led to its becoming, in Admiral V. Bhagwat’s memorable legalese, ‘unimplementable’.
The projection of power was to be across a mere 30 km stretch of water. That
diplomacy did not work despite being backed up by force, reflected the
absence of both politico-military synchronisation and popular national
support in both countries. Further, the change of the President in Sri Lanka
and the government in India sealed the fate of ISLA.
India had no past experience in military diplomacy or projection of military
power. Its record in out-of-area operations was restricted to UN
peacekeeping and peace enforcement missions, most notably in 1961-62 in the
then Belgian Congo (Zaire). It was in the Congolese province of Katanga that
the Indian Army fought its first overseas low intensity conflict. The
Katangese gendarmerie had engaged an Indian brigade group in bush warfare,
mainly guerrilla tactics.
The counter-insurgency campaign in Zaire was won by the Indian Army. It
prevented Katanga from seceding from Congo. The Indian brigade in Congo,
which included artillery and air force, was the largest military force to be
sent overseas since World War II.
At home, the army’s performance in counter-insurgency has been impressive in
the North East – varying in concept and conduct from Nagaland to Mizoram.
The latter is our big success story, comparable with the British success in
quelling the Chinese insurgency in Malaya. Much of the British Indian Army
had fought in the jungles of Burma during World War II and it was the grit
of Indian soldiers which finally defeated the Japanese at Kohima. Where no
other army had succeeded, the Indian soldiers finally halted the Japanese
juggernaut and turned the tide of the Burma campaign.
The warning order for Op Pawan in Sri Lanka was given in April 1987, three
months before the actual induction of the IPKF. It was obvious from the
initial size and composition of the force that LTTE intentions and
capabilities had been completely misread, in both India’s capacity to
influence and manipulate the Tamil Tigers.
The organisation and command and control structure that was set up and
evolved was ad hoc to the core. (The 21 Corps in Bhopal is its present
incarnation.) It was so acutely overloaded and cross-wired that the
operational chain of command was blanketed by competing centres of power.
There were other non-military encroachments too. Because the politico
military goals and objectives were not fine-tuned, there was no clarity in
mission and a mismatch of resources.
What the soldier requires most is a set of well-defined tasks and the
wherewithal with which to carry them out. This was missing. Also missing and
unknown to field commanders was the ‘higher intention’ and the bigger
picture. That despite these macrosized shortcomings the IPKF helped
implement a substantial portion of the ISLA, including weakening the LTTE,
was no small achievement. But this has gone unnoticed and uncredited.
Once it became clear the LTTE was not going to abide by the ISLA, military
operations had to be launched, but in a knee-jerk reaction. These were
conducted in two phases. First, the IPKF had to wrest control of the Jaffna
peninsula, including Jaffna town, the heart and symbol of Tamil Eelam. The
fight for Jaffna was a high intensity – a no-holds-barred multi-directional
advance to capture LTTE and destroy and limit its capability to prolong the
conflict.
Combat was static in style – a positional war at which a conventional army
is at its best and a guerrilla force at its worst. Both sides paid a heavy
price, the LTTE especially, for engaging in conventional fighting when its
forte was hit and run guerrilla warfare. (History repeated itself in 1995.
Having learnt its lesson this time, the LTTE slipped out of Jaffna as soon
as the Sri Lankan Army – sla – closed in on the town.)
The second phase of the IPKF-LTTE conflict was one of low intensity
counter-insurgency, though at times it too turned high intensity. After
consolidating in Jaffna, the IPKF was to spread out and hunt for the LTTE
cadres who had escaped the dragnet as also those who were already deployed
in the rest of the North Eastern Province (NEP).
Under the overall mandate of ISLA, the IPKF was required to establish
operational control and dominance in the NEP, marginalise the LTTE and
create conditions favourable to starting the political process. This would
include the battle for the hearts and minds and isolating the LTTE from the
people. The complexity of achieving this mission was highlighted by the
incongruity of the IPKF fighting against the very Tamils whose interests
they had been assigned to protect.
Another difficulty was the
operational translation of terms like ‘create conditions for’, ‘marginalise’
and ‘break the back of insurgency’, as also other fancy words that strayed
into IPKF lexicon. There was also this beguiling phrase, ‘loosening and
tightening of the noose around the LTTE.’ This meant different things to
different commanders, but never, perhaps the mischievous version, which
suggested the IPKF had to let Prabhakaran get out of the bag. If operations
were halted or suspended, they were for reasons other than letting
Prabhakaran go.
The LTTE’s strategy was rooted in its firm demand and conviction in Eelam
and the belief the IPKF would, sooner or later, have to leave Sri Lanka. It,
therefore, sought to wear down the IPKF militarily and even more
importantly, psychologically. Time was on its side. The Tigers demonstrably
disputed and challenged IPKF control and tried to reassert themselves in
so-called liberated areas. They followed the strategy of survival; by
ensuring the buildup and replenishment of their military capacity by relying
heavily on support from overseas Tamils.
While the LTTE varied its strategy from ‘confrontation’ to ‘avoidance of
contact’, ‘hit and run’ remained the mainstay of its tactics. The IPKF on
the other hand could not shed its psyche of a conventional force, though it
effectively engaged in small-scale counter-insurgency operations. It was
unable to engineer a change in mindset: fight a guerrilla like a guerrilla.
The IPKF carried out two major operations – Operation Checkmate (May 1988)
and Operation Mahan Kartavya (October 1988) – as a curtain raiser to the
elections and kick-starting the political process. The first operation was
designed to flush the LTTE out from urban areas and confine them to their
jungle hideouts. In the classical counter-guerrilla sense, this is akin to
separating fish from water.
The bulk of the Tamil population lives on the eastern seaboard of Sri Lanka
astride the coastal roads. Mahan Kartavya was to ensure that the LTTE was
unable to interfere in the three elections – provincial council (November
1988), presidental (December 1988), and parliamentary (February 1989) – held
after 11 years in the NEP. The violence-free elections (it was a mistake not
holding provincial elections in the North) were testimony to the operational
dominance of the IPKF. Equally of the considered strategy of the LTTE to let
the elections be conducted and get the IPKF out of Sri Lanka.
After the completion of the political process which skirted the LTTE, the
hidden agendas came alive. President Premadasa all but revoked the ISLA, cut
a deal with the LTTE and began Operation Double Cross, which ironically
claimed his life. Once Premadasa formally issued the ultimatum for the IPKF
to leave Sri Lanka in June 1989, it became clear that his eviction strategy
sponsored by the LTTE was irrevocable.
For the ltte it was now a matter of time before the field would be clear of
the IPKF. Then only the SLA and other Tamil groups would be a hurdle to
their achieving Eelam. The Tamil National Army (TNA) was created by RAW as
an adhesive for the India-backed ERPLF-led North East Provincial Council.
The TNA, not the IPKF, became the new target for the LTTE and also its
source of Indian weaponry.
At the same time, the SLA and LTTE joined hands; it was then that the IPKF
and not the LTTE which got isolated from the people. They saw the Indian
decision to pull out the IPKF as a double-cross: first fighting the Tamils
and then leaving them in the lurch, trapped in a new barrage of crossfire.
In early March 1990, in some respects Trincomalee resembled Hanoi at the
time of the American pullout from Vietnam. The IPKF was deinducted from Sri
Lanka, leaving friendly Tamil groups at the mercy of the LTTE.
Op Pawan was India’s largest
and briefest 30-month long counter insurgency campaign involving four army
divisions, tanks, artillery and helicopters. These military tools were used
with restraint, but not in the manner popularly described: one hand or at
times both hands tied behind the back.
The concern for civilian casualties was initially not as serious as it
became later on, or as it is today due to human rights watches and the
army’s own self-restraint commandments. Political considerations played an
overarching role in the formulation of operational strategy as well as
counter-insurgency doctrine and strategy. Thus, the periodic ceasefires were
tantamount to switching operations on and off, impairing thereby both the
motivation and momentum during their subsequent resumption.
Since there was no properly coordinated and integrated politico-military
strategy, the conduct of battle too remained sectoral. Each division fought
its battles in its designated geographical space without reference to what
its neighbours were doing. The LTTE, on the other hand, waged a coordinated
campaign, frequently shifting operational emphasis and resources.
Besides the imprecision in tasking and not knowing the bigger picture, the
IPKF was inadequately trained and prepared for the transborder military
expedition. Its single biggest failing was psychological warfare in which
the LTTE shone throughout. There were various deficiencies in modern weapons
and equipment. By contrast, the LTTE was equipped with ‘state of the art’
AK-47 rifles and hand-held radio equipment.
Next to guerrilla skills, motivation and intelligence, the rifle and radio
are the two most important instruments of clandestine operations. In both
these the IPKF lagged behind the IPKF; when they did receive some of the
equipment it was too late. The major strategic handicap was the IPKF
weakness in receiving timely intelligence – this despite RAW’s long and
sustained alliance with LTTE.
Not even once, at least in the Batticaloa sector, did any external
intelligence agency provide any worth-while intelligence to the field
formations over the 30 months. If anything, RAW’s presence and influence in
the field was the source of friction and confusion among other Tamil groups,
leading to operational dissonance. The TNA, which was its creation, became
the biggest embarrassment for the IPKF, both during its raising and training
but even more when it was operationalised, because it had to be protected
from the LTTE. This added to the already heavy IPKF operational burden.
Language was a problem both in communication as well as in deciphering
inter-LTTE coded transmissions. One such message was translated two days too
late. By then the LTTE had wiped out a big TNA camp. This camp could have
been saved and a trap laid instead for the LTTE.
The IPKF did not and could not enjoy the operational flexibility of a
sub-conventional guerrilla force. It not only had to control population
centres, protect the people, help them run their business and day-to-day
chores but also had to keep the LTTE at bay and secure the tenuous lines of
communication. This meant securing and holding ground. It could vary its
tactics, not so much the overall strategy.
Sometimes, the low intensity conflict became even lower. This had something
to do with ethnic affinity of the combatants. The LTTE and IPKF had
developed some emotional attachment, both in the run-up to the ISLA as in
the run-up to the surrender of arms. At times, and especially at the
beginning of hostilities, not including the Jaffna battle, the level of
fighting was kept unconsciously controlled. There was at least one report of
a unit of the Madras regiment which was suspected of having worked out with
the LTTE a policy of live and let live.
Given the flaws in the ISLA, the impediments to its implementability and the
operational handicaps – innate and self inflicted – did the IPKF fail in its
mission? The short answer to that question is: No.
The military intervention in Sri Lanka was not so much a failure of the
counter-insurgency campaign as it was the breakdown of coercive diplomacy.
The hidden agendas carried by all sides – India, Sri Lanka and LTTE –
further complicated any one party being able to achieve its agenda.
Many experts argue that India burnt its fingers in Sri Lanka. Young nations
attain maturity after transcending geopolitical difficulties and learning
geostrategic lessons. The LTTE has also learnt many lessons: that it is
better-off sticking to guerrilla tactics and mobile war fighting than the
conventional tactics it adopted in Jaffna. The bigger lesson is that it
cannot expect to win Eelam militarily. This is the enduring lesson for all
sides who are party to the ethnic conflict.
India has helped Sri Lanka in defending its territorial integrity and in
maintaining its political stability. The IPKF presence allowed the SLA to
crush the JVP. It succeeded in doing so not through military action but
superior intelligence and by destroying the JVP leadership. Attacking the
head of an insurgency movement has greater payoff than slugging at its roots
alone. A serious, well-planned intelligence operation to nab Prabhakaran
never materialised. All the IPKF did was dream about it. The LTTE, its Sea
Tigers, Black Tigers and Tigresses are all the last word in motivation. They
can be rated as the wiliest and deadliest insurgent group in the world.
The positive side of the military campaign was the politico-military
awakening. If the decision to engage the LTTE was questioned at every level,
so was its sanity doubted. Officers and other ranks gained first hand
experience in administering towns, reviving moribund institutions and
restoring normalcy. The IPKF’s most significant contribution was preparing
the Tamils for elections and helping Colombo hold three of them. These bouts
of electioneering in Sri Lanka later-enabled the army to help state
governments in Punjab, J&K and elsewhere to hold free and fair elections.
Op Pawan was the first serious blooding of the army since the 1971 war. It
shook up the rank and file and gave them the much-needed jolt to rouse units
and battalions, some of who were quite laid back. Counter-insurgency is the
infantry’s bread and butter. But in Sri Lanka, troops from other arms and
services were also involved in close combat. It provided excellent training
for about 100 infantry battalions and scores of non infantry units.
While higher leadership was found wanting, junior leaders and troops
performed effectively, most of them through on-job, real time experience.
Barring one officer who was from the artillery, every field commander
belonged to the infantry. It was truly a perfect baptism for the infantry
after 1971.
A number of books, including a few quickies, have appeared on the Indian
intervention in Sri Lanka. There are unexplained gaps in all, principally in
the military sphere. Two persons who can bridge the gap are Major General
Harkirat Singh who was the first and only field commander to interact with
the LTTE on a protracted basis, including Prabhakaran. General Harkirat’s
summary removal from Jaffna in the heat of the Jaffna battle has never been
explained. And his own lips remain sealed.
Similarly, Lt. General A.S. Kalkat, the officer commanding the IPKF, too has
chosen to remain silent. Everyone knows he knows a lot because he often
dealt directly with Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, frequently over the head of
the army chief, General V.N. Sharma who would proudly refer to Kalkat as his
‘political general’. Kalkat has at times come close to revealing and then
clamming up.
We in India are poor at recording history. But some of us who have led
troops in the most intense counter-insurgency campaigns the army has ever
fought, owe it to the future soldier to pen the unfinished slanging match
between the IPKF and the LTTE in Sri Lanka. For the moment, let history
record that the IPKF did a good job of a difficult mission. |