July 26, 1999

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The war helped India rediscover its underlying oneness. But the inspiring triumph will be a reminder that smugness can cost the country dear.

By Swapan Dasgupta

Good history demands detachment. In time to come, when Tiger Hill becomes as remote as Khem Karan and Tololing becomes just another remote dot on the map like Nathu La, it may be possible to write chronicles of the two-month Kargil war. It will be possible to document military strategies, gauge the full extent of heroism, dissect diplomatic moves and even apportion credit and blame. In short, reduce the fourth India-Pakistan war to an episode in the troubled relationship of two subcontinental neighbours.

It's victory smiles for the army and IAF brass at the end of a spirited campaign. Photo: B Maitra/DPR Defence

History, however, must await another generation. For this generation, for each of us who lived through the bitter conflict in the distant hills, it is impossible to view Kargil with detachment. Once a mere district name, Kargil has become the shorthand for a powerful collective experience. Its mere mention conjures vivid images. Of betrayal, anxiety, anger, sadness, determination, bravery, triumph and euphoria. For the past eight weeks, the whole of India lived Kargil and breathed Kargil. From the audacious army major in Rocky Knob who sat perched on a mined hill and still retained his sense of humour to the mother of Captain Sumit Roy who told mourners, "Some have to give their life to save the country", Kargil became the new symbol of an uncharateristically determined India.

It was not a war any of us wanted. Indeed, after Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee's bus ride to Lahore the country believed it had entered a new era of bhai bhai with Pakistan. Nevertheless, when war was thrust on a mentally unprepared nation, it responded with a daring and energy that few believed was possible. There were no blackouts in this war. Even the rusty civil defence sirens weren't given the once over. This war didn't intrude into our daily routine. Its reach was narrow and covered an area where, to use Jawaharlal Nehru's unfortunate words, "not a blade of grass grows".

That didn't make an iota of difference either to the soldiers or the civilians who stood united behind them. The officers led from the front and the jawans matched them in determination and courage. India lost over 400 of its brave warriors in battles conducted on some of the most inhospitable ter-rains in the world. The infantry climbed and fought without rest and respite. In some cases, the operation went on non-stop for 36 hours culminating in hand-to-hand combat with a fanatical enemy. The air force and artillery supported them with deadly precision, while the army doctors struggled to save the wounded in improvised bunkers. It was one of the most difficult wars fought by the Indian Army, by any army. A war where there was no scope for retreat and where no prisoners were taken. Victory, when it finally came, left the tricolour drenched in blood.

That's why Kargil has left such a deep impression on a country hitherto steeped in cynical indifference. That's why there has been such a staggering onrush of patriotic feeling. That is why, from Ladakh to Nagaland, India has mourned its heroes with an unprecedented show of unity and solidarity. That's why, the divisions of caste, community and religion that have dogged the country have been momentarily forgotten. The Bhumihars turned up for the funeral of jawan Ishtiaq in Pakhanpur village of Ghazipur (Uttar Pradesh); the whole of Noida, a suburb near Delhi, stopped normal business for the cremation of Lieutenant Vijyant Thapar; and caste taboos were swept away for the funeral of the Dalit sepoy Dinesh Vaghela in Nirmali village of Kheda, Gujarat. India united in grief. And sadness mingled with pride. There were many questions to be answered but the nation preferred to leave these for later.

When the snows fall later this year on Tiger Hill and Tololing, they will cover the blood of Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Punjabis, Gorkhas, Biharis Nagas, Oriyas, Bengalis, Tamils, Kannadigas and Malayalees. Together, their sacrifice kept Kargil for India. They have inspired a generation that had begun wondering what India was all about. They helped a nation rediscover its soul, its underlying oneness. They created the Kargil spirit.

That's a mood the chroniclers of the future may find hard to recapture. They may find it harder still to grasp the collective display of will power that gave India its famous victory in the summer of 1999. Unless, of course, the Kargil spirit becomes enshrined in the national consciousness.

Kargil has raised many questions. The answers to some are both flattering and disconcerting. India, like Pakistan, will have to go through a period of introspection. Only then can Kargil become a defining moment. Even pave the way for a new beginning. Smugness could lead to all the sacrifices going in vain. For the sake of those who gave their everything for India, we must not let that happen. Let Kargil be an inspiration. But let it also be a reminder.

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