JOSEPH GOEBBELS NEVER VISITED KERALA

 

“Veettil Oonu,” (വീട്ടിൽ ഊണ്), the board outside the roadside restaurant in the town screamed. The two Malayalam words literally mean 'home food’. Everyone knows that home food is prepared and served at home. The restaurant that screamed ‘home food’ was neither home nor homely. It kept the hearth going for its owners and workers. Such boards are common along the length and breadth of Kerala. How can anyone buy ‘home food’ in a wayside restaurant? Everyone knows it is a blatant lie.  If you walk into such a restaurant hoping to eat something homely, you could be disappointed. The food they serve is a ‘meal’ sold in all restaurants across Kerala. ‘Meals,’ for the uninitiated, means an unlimited supply of rice and curry, served on a banana leaf or plate. If you thought Veettil Oonu would be cheaper than normal meals in other restaurants, maybe if you are lucky, you could be right. Anyway, people still walk in knowing that the board screams untruth. The name sells.

Why are names important?

Names grant a unique identity and a sense of differentiation. It creates an association between the entity and its attributes, helping us to shape our perceptions about the entity. Name provides the most potent emotional connection between the entity and the environment. Once a name is ingrained in our memory, a recall triggers the release of associated emotions stored and, therefore, predictable behavioural responses.  Every time a Malayali hears the words ‘Veettil Oonu’, it immediately brings him close to the food that his mother prepared for him. 

The concept of Veettil Oonu, most likely, would have started when a Malayalee, most likely a poor but enterprising lady, decided to cook some extra food at home and serve it in her dining space for a price. Her business would have catered to the hunger needs of a few in the locality. These enterprises were initially confined to the premises of houses. She must have been a visionary. It did away with the need to subordinate oneself to food inspectors and law enforcers who visited merely to demand subservience, allegiance and conformance to the practice of graft both in cash and kind. It did not incur additional infrastructural and organisational costs and allowed her to keep the extra income outside the hungry tax net. Restaurants saw the opportunity and relabelled their noon meals as Veettil Oonu. It used the unbreakable bond between names and our memories. It also guaranteed business because there were enough hungry, homesick and gullible folks walking around.  All those who go in know that the board is a blatant lie, and they are not walking in for a homemade meal. Joseph Goebbels called it the big lie.

Joseph Goebbels, the chief architect of Nazi propaganda, showed the world the power of propaganda. He turned blatant lies into slogans and sent them out to the environment. He repeated it so much that the environment became saturated with his slogans. Short but lethal, his slogans like “Der Führer hat immer recht” (The Führer is always right), “Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer” (One people, one Empire, one leader), created a cult figure, wielding unmatched lethality, reigning over a people driven not to reason but to inflict untold cruelty on a section of people, once their own neighbours. He would have never imagined that two simple Malayalam words, coined as a benign tag, could lure people again and again, even when they know it is a blatant lie. Veettil Oonu is a powerful trigger, a brand name without a patent or trade disputes. 

Can slogans be so powerful that they can kill the sense of reasoning inherent in us?

Yes. We always reason out. We seldom reason against the intended purpose. We reason it out as the master wanted us to. Slogans are words brought together to create a predetermined emotion. Slogans can be benign or provocative. Benign slogans are like the ones that companies like Nike market their products. “Just do it” is what they say.  It motivates the person to do something. It does not have any underlying or embedded negative messaging. There are loaded slogans or taglines. “Make America Great Again (MAGA)” is one such. On the surface, it calls upon each American to shoulder their part in making the country great. The presence of the word ‘again’ gives the slogan a different tone. It implies that the country was great sometime back, slipped down to being not so great now, and therefore needs to be made great again. It also implies that someone had failed the country by bringing it down from the exalted position it once held. Surely, someone must be responsible for it! But more importantly, everyone who hears it will, without doubt, tend to believe that the person giving the MAGA call is leading the way to MAGA. It also means that anybody who opposes the person calling MAGA is anti-national. 

The trick is to use names and words to associate the base instincts of a people with their insecurities, make them aware of a potent threat, real or imaginary and promise a way out. Goebbels was a master of the art. He believed that if a lie is so big that no one would believe that anybody could distort the truth so much, then people will tend to believe it as the truth. Repeated enough, the lie will be cemented as truth amongst the masses. When Goebbels gave the slogan “Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer” (One people, one Empire, one leader), he, on the surface, sought unity amongst Germans as one people. Who would reject it? After all, anyone who supported it was the Volk. “Ein Reich” sold a dream to the people of making their country a great empire. Inherent to the slogan was the conquest to redraw boundaries. Anybody who believed in the Reich naturally agreed with the military campaigns. Anybody who spoke against the conquest was not part of the folk. “Ein Führer” was a call for a leader capable of doing it. Adolf Hitler was the Führer. Another slogan made popular by Goebbels at that time was “Der Führer hat immer recht” (The Führer is always right). It proclaimed the infallibility of the Führer. The economic crisis provided the perfect setting. People were angry. Now, their ire could easily be directed against anything or anyone. Someone. Goebbels decided to target the Jews. “Die Juden sind Schuld,” screamed his slogan. The slogan seeded frenzy. People turned against their neighbours. Anyone who saw any other rationale was against the Volk and was mercilessly dealt with. This phenomenon did not end with Hitler and Goebbels

When differences in opinion can be labelled treason, fear will triumph over reason, and people will become tormentors of others who were once their own. Politicians across the world would continue to manufacture lies so colossal that even the well-read would believe that a lie of such proportions is impossible and therefore must be the truth. These lies will be used to make slogans, and slogans will divide people into communities that turn one against the other. Fuelled by slogans, the public goes into a frenzy while politicians on the sides feed on the bleed. No amount of proof can quell the frenzy.

Are people so gullible and naive?

Like the hungry walking into the wayside restaurant, driven by hunger and blinded by greed for a cheap but familiar taste of home food, people at large, driven by their base instincts of insecurity, blinded by their greed for easy gains at the cost of someone else, go berserk. Insulated from consequences, individuals become groups, and groups become mobs, dispensing devastation on the hapless.

“What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” said a love-struck Juliet to her equally tormented lover Romeo. The Capulet family, to which Juliet belonged, were sworn enemies of the Montague family, to which Romeo belonged, and that became the biggest hurdle for the two lovers. It took the lives of a few before the two families agreed to bury their hatchet. By then, the lovers were long dead. Pardon Juliet for being blinded by love and desperate to be with her sweetheart. Shakespeare should have known better. After all, he lived through ‘The Felt Makers Riots of 1592' and ‘The Evil May Day Riot of 1593’ against the aliens. When he chose to ask, “What is in a name?” he required Juliet to do it for him.  

The innocuous-looking board luring people into the restaurant for home food should serve us as a powerful reminder of how easy it is for us to be led to untruths unquestioningly. But, didn’t someone say, history repeats itself?

 

 

 

 

If Pigs Knew They Stink

 

“Pigs do not know they stink,” Manju, my friend, messaged me after reading my article, Wrestling with the Pigs. The benign comment almost exonerated pigs from culpability for the stink. The thought, she said, was brought up by her husband when they sat down to discuss my blog. He had read somewhere that “pigs do not know that they stink.” They are a kind couple. It would have been easy for them to be considerate and pardon pigs as a class for “they (pigs) know not what they do.” 

I was, however, elated on two counts.  The first, another article of mine, had found space in an intellectual discussion. It felt good. The second, I detected something profound in her statement. It raised two socially relevant questions. How would pigs know they stink? What would happen if pigs knew they stank? 

How would pigs know they stink? There could be two ways. Either the pig itself realises that it stinks, or another pig calls it out. Both can happen only if pigs themselves can identify individual odours and differentiate between the good, bad, and unbearable. Armed with that knowledge, a pig has to realise that there is an odour and it stinks. They also have to accept that their odour is considered offensive and not appreciated by others. Wallowing in mud and filth comes naturally to them.  Even if they are hosed down, they will return to dirt without remorse because they have nowhere else to go. They have reconciled themselves to the fact, stink or not, they are condemned to live in filth with no hope of redemption. However, they do not come up to us on purpose to cause discomfort. It is we who go near them and complain about their stink.

But we humans are not in as condemnable a state as them. We know what is offensive and what is not.  Each society has evolved its own set of rights and wrongs, acceptable and unacceptable. Yet many among us, born and brought up amidst the sense of right and wrong, without a second thought, step beyond legal, moral, and ethical boundaries. The society accepts it with silent indifference, and people with legal or moral authority choose to turn a blind eye. In the times that we now live in, most of us do not care or dare to call out someone unless the act committed directly and adversely affects us. Even when it is committed against us, we prefer to let it go. We tend to look at the drudgery and penalty associated with calling out the act or fighting it out, and opt to accept suffering in silence. Many of the problems prevailing today in society can be attributed directly to this fear of calling out people, even when both the perpetrators and their victims know what is wrong. Worse, we willingly participate in perpetuating it by becoming party to it or abetting its accomplishment in silence.

Corruption is a typical example. Everyone knows it exists. Everyone knows it is wrong, but most of us willingly become party to it to get things done, even when what we ask is our rightful due. We have become accustomed to being bullied, and many among us do not hesitate to perpetuate what we preach as wrong. Rarely does anybody call them out, and in most cases, we all want to get over it and pay up, even if we do not like to. Substance abuse amongst youngsters would not happen without parents first hiding what they discover, and then suffering in silence, between bouts of denial. People who become habitual in breaking the law come to that state because someone with moral and emotional authority and the liability to call out the deviant fails in their obligations. We, the public, tend to evaluate the risk and penalty of speaking out against the possible payoff from abetting and choose silence.

What would happen if pigs knew they stank? Let us apply this thought only to the world of pigs. We will consciously keep humans out of this part.

If the pigs knew that they stank and felt that they would be better off without the stink, or even better, they wanted to emit a fragrance, it would mean they had achieved awareness of the self. They would want to change. If they are given a choice and the means to pursue it, they would try and keep themselves cleaner than they do now and ask those in charge of society for a better environment to live in. This noble and ubiquitous thought is also the prescription to salvation or nirvana. Those with an eye for commerce can easily spot endless business opportunities to cash in on. In the physical plane, there would be products and processes on sale, one outbidding the other with the promise of expanding scopes and fairytale outcomes. In the spiritual plane, in their quest to become fragrant entities from within, they could become religious and flock to those who promise fragrance of the soul and a fantabulous afterlife. Imagine a pig all bathed, beautiful and smelling good.

If pigs lived in a hierarchical society (like we humans do), then there would certainly be a prescribed order of odours. Those with the more offensive odour would be placed low in the hierarchy of pigs. There would be many shades of odour, defining many societal classes, and there could even be classes within each class, all dictated by the accident called birth. 

A sense of Deja vu?

What would happen if others do not want pigs to change? Consider the situation when pigs, with no option left, decide to weaponise their offensive odour! It is a whole new world of possibilities out there. 

I have put across some of my thoughts. There could be much more. I leave it to your imagination.

Now, honestly have you forced yourself into silence when you really wanted to respond differently?

What do you say? Please add your thoughts in the comment section.

PS: The picture here has been generated by Grok

 

Wrestling With Pigs

 

Wrestle with the pigs?  Yes.

What happens if you do? “You both get dirty, and the Pig likes it.” George Bernard Shaw. 

Would anyone do that? Most of us do.  

Why would anyone do that? Well, it is in our nature to do that. Despite my resolve not to, I almost got into the pit yesterday.  

My school had a piggery. The place had an offensive stink that reached far beyond its walls. It was there that I saw pigs for the first time. The piglets looked cute, ate a lot, and grew up into huge pink pigs. I knew they would end up on our plates sometime and felt bad for them. Nevertheless, I relished pork.  

One fine day, I came across George Orwell’s all-time classic, The Animal Farm, and read it. Unaware that the book was a political satire about the Russian Revolution and the rise of the Soviet Union, it led me to consider pigs as ruthlessly manipulative, cunning, and wily. I visited the piggery once or twice after that and tried to identify Napoleon the antagonist, Snowball the idealist and Squealer the propaganda pig.  My initial understanding of the idiom, “wrestle with the pigs”, was built around the character they played in the book. Growing up, I lost interest in pigs, but my appetite for pork grew.  It took me a few more years to understand what the idiom meant and where it could be used.  

Travelling to my workplace from where I lived, I had to cross this area (since everybody is easily offended these days, let me keep the name of the place under wraps) where people, oblivious to others around, nonchalantly squatted, smoking and defecating. They, while defecating in the open, even talked to each other as if they were on some social platform. While the area was filled with people defecating in the morning, there was always someone in the act at any time of the day. The pigs were always there, working around people, openly defecating. I have seen pigs even sleeping there. The picture made the idiom, “wrestling with the pigs”, more than clear. I would never, even in my worst dreams, want to wrestle with a pig! Yet, I almost did it yesterday. 

I was driving home from Chenganoor. Since Gods and saints now need people to come out onto the roads and make their presence felt, there was a religious procession on the road. Filled with divine thoughts and assured of no consequences, some of these people can easily be provoked to become violent. I slowed down and stopped my car to the side, giving way for the procession to pass by. Behind me, there were a few vehicles patiently waiting and surprisingly not honking. The procession passed by without any incident. Behind the line of devotees were a few vehicles. One was a lady on a scooter. “If you are scared of getting your car grazed, travel by bus,” she commented, as my car inched slowly forward. She was obviously angry with me for having exercised age-driven caution. The temptation to wrestle with the pig (no physical comparison meant) was intense and immediate. I got angry and retorted.  

There is a thin line between sanity and insanity, and I quickly regained composure, at least externally and walked out of the pit into which I had jumped to wrestle. I could have easily ignored her, but I was easily provoked. Throughout the drive thereafter, I kept analysing my folly. On one side, I was angry with the lady and wished I had given her a suitable reply. I wish I had wrestled. On the other hand, I was happy that I saved myself from giving in to the urge to get dirty.  

There are a lot of people around with so much pent-up anger and dissatisfaction that they want to spill it at the first possible opportunity. They move around with their putrid garbage, ready to be dumped on anyone at the first possible instant. That lady might have had a bad day, but mine was beautiful till then. I had been enjoying some amazing times over the three days before it. Yet by impulse, I was drawn to the pit.  Most of us are tempted to respond immediately to the slightest provocation. Letting anyone go scot-free from what we think they have done wrong could be a difficult proposition for many of us. But then that is precisely what the pigs demand. The very fact that you engage with them is a victory for them, irrespective of the result of the engagement. They are in there not for a decision on the matter of right or wrong, but purely for getting someone to dump their muck and dirtying those willing to engage with them. I almost fell for it.

Closer to ourselves, we can see this in action every day. One only has to look at various WhatsApp groups that we are part of.  You can see this phenomenon at work. Look at some heated discussions. One can find many in the pit trying to wrestle in futility, making it difficult to distinguish who controls the fight.  We can also see roles shift at random, and the conflict ends only with everyone involved getting soiled, and some sitting by the pit enjoying the fight.

On the drive back, or what was left of it, I promised myself not to fall for the bait pigs set up. I also vowed to myself never to become a pig for others, for unknowingly, we also could end up being the pigs.

PS: The Picture is Grok-generated

 

 

KUNDIL VEENA CHUNDELI - LESSONS IN LEADERSHIP (Corporate and others)

 

“Kundil Veena Chundeli” is in Malayalam and means “mouse that fell in a ditch.

“History repeats itself” is an idiom that finds frequent mention nowadays. Both sides, especially in animated television discussions that become no-holds-barred debates, use it at will. The events that unfold daily across the world somehow give me the impression that the contemporary is often a repetition of the past, and we, in our own little ways, are all part of this great drama. To make things clearer, let me share a Malayalam story I learned as a child in the second or third grade. The story seems to repeat endlessly, though the characters keep changing. Let me narrate the story, giving it a contemporary flavour.

The story

Once upon a time, a mouse landed up in a kitchen in search of food. Without much problem, he found two “neyyappams” (a Malayali sweet and my childhood favourite) wrapped in a newspaper. Without waiting to eat, he picked up the packet and walked. He wanted to reach home and share the food with his children. The package was bigger than him, and naturally, holding it in his mouth, it blocked his sight. Not the one to give up, he walked, though blinded. Soon enough, he fell and fell into a deep ditch. He tried to climb out of the ditch but could not. Oblivious to his plight, the world outside carried on. He could, however, hear other animals walking past the ditch far above him. Then an idea struck him. He pretended to read the newspaper and read it aloud. 

“The sky is about to fall, and those who fear for life run and hide in some deep ditch,” he read it at the top of his voice from the depths of the pit. He kept repeating the same thing again.

A tiger, with a keen sense of hearing and smell, walking by, heard the mouse. “What?” He looked up at the sky. It was still there. He looked into the ditch and saw the mouse reading the newspaper. 

“Is it true? Is the sky going to fall?” He asked the mouse. 

“It is true. You are in danger. It is written here in the paper. Save yourself.” 

“How?”

“Are you deaf? Are you dumb? I just read this paper for you. Jump into a deep ditch,” replied the mouse and continued to pretend to read the paper. 

Who does not fear for life? “Can I come in?” asked the tiger. 

“Yeah. You and I are in danger. Jump in,” replied the mouse.

The Tiger jumped into the ditch to save his life. Worse, he was unlettered and was ashamed that he could not read, but a mouse could. But he was very grateful to the mouse, for he had used his wisdom to save another fellow forester from death without seeking anything in return. The mouse kept reading the message aloud again and again.

“Why are you repeating the message?” asked the tiger.

“Why? I am not selfish. I know the threat and know how to get out of it. Don't you want to save our brothers and sisters in the forest? Humans will take care of themselves.”

The tiger was overcome with remorse. In repentance, he started repeating what the mouse said. Obviously, the tiger had a bigger roar. All the animals in the jungle heard it and started running helter-skelter. Soon, the ditch was filled with various animals from the forest. The elephant followed. Others, one by one, big and small, different species, all united in their anxiety and grief, and hoping to save their own lives, joined them. Slowly, the ditch started getting filled up, and everyone was announcing that the sky was about to fall. After all, the community was under threat. The mouse continued with his pretend he was reading as others looked at him in awe. He stopped reading aloud because others had started parroting it for him, much louder and more convincing than he could be.  

A monkey was passing by and heard the commotion. He also wanted to join, but the mouse would let nothing of that sort happen.  “This place is already full. You go and find some other place,” the mouse commanded. After all, he was in command! Everyone there had unquestioningly accepted his wisdom and saw him as their saviour and supreme leader. Moreover, he had access to the scripture, and others did not know how to read. “Must be a divine gift,” they thought when they saw the mouse silently reading. Nobody questioned how he came to possess that competency. Even if someone suspected that it was a pretension, he could not speak out because the mouse had saved their lives.

“Please,” said the monkey. Nobody spoke. They all looked admiringly at the mouse, like devout disciples.

“I know you sneeze a lot, and God despises people who sneeze. Letting you in here will kill us all. Go away,” decreed the mouse.

“No. I do not sneeze. Nobody in my family sneezes,” replied the monkey.

“Are you telling us that we are lying?”  asked the mouse. He made sure that the word “us” stood out clearly from everything else. All the other animals noticed it and felt happy that the mouse was talking for all of them and taking care of everybody.

“Please,” the monkey begged, almost on the verge of tears. He did not want to die.

“Okay, we will accept you on one condition. Whosoever sneezes first will be thrown out of this ditch,” said the mouse, and looked at his audience. The word “we” was louder than everything else. All the animals were happy because their kind, benevolent, respected leader of all time included them in the decision-making. They were getting a role in governance, too!  They loved their leader. 

“Yes,” that is a fair condition,” they said in unison.

“This rule applies to everybody, even me,” declared the leader. The crowd was already grateful to their leader for having saved their life. Now he was putting himself on par with everybody in the crowd.  They loved him even more. They felt like worshipping him and seeing God in him. “Is it okay with everybody?” asked the leader.

Given a voice and the chance to be heard, everybody shouted in unison, “Yes, lord, let the rule be applied, and let us get the monkey in if he agrees to our condition.” The word “our” was distinct and had a taste of unity and brotherhood. The monkey gladly jumped into the ditch, touched the feet of the mouse, and stood on one side. Meanwhile, the other animals, out of reverence, gave the mouse a little space of his own. They also spoke amongst themselves about how they should now control entry. 

The mouse retrieved the two neyyappams he had come with, wrapped them back inside the newspaper and held them tight and close to his chest. He moved to the space allotted and declared that he had left most of the space for others. The other animals agreed, acknowledged his generosity, though they were adjusting themselves so as not to stamp on each other. They all looked at the mouse with even more admiration. One even said, “See our leader. He is simple and humble. He is carrying his own bags. He is humility personified.” 

Then what?

Finale

After some time, the mouse looked around and sneezed. The animals were shocked. They did not know what to do. They looked at each other, and then the mouse sneezed again. He was their saviour, and now what were they supposed to do? They looked up to the mouse.

The mouse stood up, looked at the others and said, “I know you all love me, but rules are rules, and for your sake, please throw me out.”

All the other animals got into a hurdle and nominated one of them to do the difficult job. The elephant was nominated because he had a trunk. He, with a heavy heart, took the mouse and flung him out of the ditch with his long trunk. The ditch was overcome with sorrow. They sat down in sorrow to discuss how magnanimous the mouse was towards all of them. Someone even started blaming the elephant for what he had done. 

“How could you do that?” The pig asked. 

“But you all told me to,” the elephant protested. Other animals started avoiding the elephant. 

The mouse hurried home happily and shared the delicacy with his children.

What happened to the others?

Your guess. 

Relevance 

How is the story relevant now? “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” (George Santayana, The Life of Reason, 1903)

The story continues to be repeated right in front of us, every day in different forms. We make leaders out of mice, who peddle untruth that we accept without question. What is worse? We peddle the same untruth, believing it to be the sole truth, louder and more vigorously than its original peddler.  

Social media platforms are the deep ditches that humanity finds itself stuck in.  The platform by itself may not be harmful, but when we populate it with our version of truth, which is falsehoods, fake news, untruths, and half-truths, it becomes an all-consuming ditch. Fuelled by the desire to become the messiah, we use our fast fingers to reach out for those we know, with the messages we just received, without bothering to check the veracity of what we propagate. (My friend Colonel Reji Koduvath calls them Centre forwards) In almost every interactive social media platform, one can find virulent violence of ignorance. But people do not realise that behind all the churn is a mouse with his two neyyappams held close to his chest, waiting to sneeze and scoot. The sad truth is that we would be left to fight it amongst ourselves against each other. Sadder still, we would vehemently refuse to accept that the “mouse” got the better of us, exploiting our inherent inadequacies that incapacitate our rationality.

Caveat

The story also brings out lessons on easy steps to rewarding leadership, albeit disruptive and, in the long run, destructive. I am consciously restricting my examples to corporate leadership because nowadays, people tend to be easily offended and are actively on the lookout for reasons to be offended. Parts of a conversation or text can be consciously weaned, taken out of context and weaponised. 

Let me restate the caveat here. The examples given here are strictly about the corporate environment. Bringing similarity to any leader, dead or alive, any organisation thriving or decaying, any ideology benevolent or discriminatory, is entirely your imagination. I declare myself free of your sins!

Tips for Disruptive Leadership 

1.    Find a cause, preferably one that can be dressed up as existential. It does not need to be real. Unsubstantiated ones or hearsay will just be fine. (Threat of a competitor killing our product or company.) It must, however, give the feel that the like-minded ones are together in the “depths of the pit,” and can survive only if we stand together.

2.    That also needs an enemy, a competitor. It will be best if we can find a person or a group of persons who can be blamed. Does not matter if they did anything wrong. But blame someone anyway. It helps give a face to be aware of.

3.    Give historical references, even if there are none, or what is being given is made up. (Who cares about the truth. Make up statistics.) It will give a sense of credibility, just like the mouse reading the newspaper. Faithful followers blinded by fear of extinction will stand in support with no questions asked. 

4.    Repeat it as many times as possible, till it assumes critical mass. Otherwise, such followers may lose the sense of purpose. 

5.    Define the group to be protected and announce it till it reaches a stage where people start claiming that they are in that group and identify others as outsiders. This will give a sense of identity. Only when there are competitors can there be competition. Divisions make adversaries out of friends, and then the differences will start showing as existential threats. Within an organisation, the competition can be between production and marketing. Who cares if our aim is achieved?

6.    Pretend willingness to die for the cause. Announce that, “I will not be taking a raise,” or offer to give up some part of the pay, perks, or allowance. Nobody expects you to, and even if you take a hike or add more perks and allowances, nobody will ask if the existential cause is in place. After some time, the followers would have come so far behind you, they cannot go back. 

7.    Declare that you are willing to be crucified (Pretend. Nobody will crucify the leader) 

You think I am being sarcastic? Look around and look within your organisations and even in the households. You will be able to find it playing out.

I do not know if the story is still taught in schools. 

It is time to teach this story in all management schools.

Learning management from a mouse? 

Yeah. Let me list out a few!

Crisis Management. 

Crowd Management.

Resource Management. 

Narrative Management. 

Perception Management. 

Outcome Management. 

Effective Communication.

Team Management. 

If you are resourceful enough, you can list many more.

PS: 

Gratitude to Colonel Reji Koduvath for sharing the original story immediately after our discussion on why people want to become forwarding agents.

Picture courtesy AI

 

This Cancer is Preventable

 

It was a beautiful morning that day, way back in 2008. Then, I received that call from my friend in Mumbai. A Malayalee born and bred in Hyderabad, married to a Malayalee settled in Mumbai, she speaks a unique tongue. Our friendship had gone past the necessity of starting conversations with a good morning or good evening. The telephone calls between us were not very regular, but when we spoke, we picked up from where we left off last. We talked about small things in life. Most of the conversation was reserved for pulling each other's legs and laughing. There was happiness in our conversation, always. It has been like that since we met for the first time in 2005. But that call in 2008 was different. 

 “Arey, do you know something?” she asked. She sounded dead serious. 

In the normal course of conversation, I would have said something funny or pulled her leg. “What happened?’ I asked, sensing something wrong in her voice. “I have breast cancer,” she said.

I was stunned and did not know what to say. I kept quiet, all the while thinking what to say and how to console her. I did not have to. She told me the details of the diagnosis and what she planned to do next.  This was one time when I was tongue-tied, and she led the conversation, and I was just making some incoherent sounds to tell her that I was alive at the other end. There was nothing much I could have done to help her in any manner. 

In the 17 years since then, I have met a few people afflicted with cancer. Many of them survived. Some of them with whom I spent time did not make it. There was nothing that I could have done for anyone to change their medical condition. In a few cases, I helped them prepare themselves and their families for the days ahead. In the others, I was only a witness to the unravelling events. That is when I noticed a pattern.

The initial response to the discovery of the disease is shock, pain, and disbelief. The uncertainty of the future immediately steps into take whatever mind space is left. Almost concurrently, the question, “Why me?” begins to gnaw at the person. During this time, the afflicted individuals and those around them undergo a visible change in their behaviour. They close ranks and behave as if they are guarding a state secret. Extra efforts are made to keep the secret away from other friends, relatives, and neighbours. As the situation worsens, most people withdraw into the shells of their own making and inevitably suffer in loneliness, the intense pain and anxiety. Only a very few choose to share their problem beyond their immediate support system. This reaction is not limited to cancer. When we come face-to-face with serious adversities or life-threatening challenges, most of us react likewise; the way our responses manifest might differ.

Why should anyone share their problem with everyone? 

Why should they publicise their sufferings?

How does sharing our problems with others help us?

Valid questions. The rights and privileges of privacy are paramount to an individual. The decision to share an individual's problem with somebody else is a personal choice. It must unequivocally remain so. 

I am interested in the study of human behaviour and often look at people's behaviour more as manifestations of something beyond what the eye can see. Life, over the last 66 years, has convinced me that the weaknesses and inadequacies inherent in each one of us drive our responses to various stimuli. This holds even for groups. Fake news and propaganda fan our vulnerabilities. That is the reason why it spreads faster than the truth. That is why religious teachers and politicians thrive on fear and hate. When afflictions are personal, individual traits drive the response. Therefore, people from similar socio-economic and cultural backgrounds and even from the same family respond very differently when they are afflicted with similar grave personal challenges or adversities. 

Why do we behave the way we do? 

Some experts point to fear of social stigma as the cause. Diseases like AIDS, lunacy, and leprosy are associated with social stigma. In a deeply conservative society like ours, there are serious consequences and repercussions associated with personal afflictions. The stigma could continue to socially impact the near and dear ones well beyond the life of the afflicted person. In such circumstances, withholding information, hiding the ailment, or denying the adversity can be understood. When COVID-19 was raging, and people at large attired in protective suits were chasing down anyone suspected of being infected, keeping the infection a secret was understandable. Heart-related conditions, diabetes or blood pressure issues are not communicable diseases and cannot be attributed to immoral living. Many people take pains to hide lifestyle diseases and even take offence at being asked. 

Some people tend to hide their problems due to fear of losing their position in society or the image of wealth and well-being they think they have in society. Not long ago, when most of us knew we needed each other, we accepted dependence on others as normal. We were open to sharing and caring materially and emotionally. It was expected and easily accepted. The growth of affluence in society has brought along a sense of omnipotence amongst us individuals. Sharing an adversity or a problem with others is nowadays perceived as an erosion of that self-assumed potency. Anyone sympathising risks being seen as a threat to that notion of adequacy. Deeply suspicious individuals, who take care to remain aloof, have nothing to do with others. They moat themselves into emotional isolation. It could even be due to the fear of loss of opportunities.  Despite easily discernible and obvious signs, people still deny loss of jobs, financial setbacks and many such adversities, hoping to recover and regain the position they think they occupy. Reasons could be any. My search narrowed down to two possible reasons, equally strong and interconnected but less discussed.

We are a deeply conservative society driven by faith, beliefs, and customs. Irrespective of how we treat religion or faith in our personal lives now, most of us have been brought up deeply religious and with the conviction that our present is the result of our past; our deeds, in this life or the ones before. Life seen through the prism of a cause-and-effect continuum in perpetuity, with an infinite repayment term to cope with, comes with the burden of servicing presumed debts of the unknown past with sufferings of the present. Effectively, we tend to believe we are suffering because we did something wrong and are now the subject of divine displeasure.  Destiny, or God's will, is what most people would call it. It may not be the case with all of us universally, but most people around us certainly subscribe to that thought. Subconsciously, we do not like to be seen as servicing debts of the past!  Imprinted deep within our DNA, the belief system that we have inherited or developed has a significant role in dictating how we respond to stimuli. The strong belief that we are reaping the fruits of our own doing drives us immediately to invoke God. We even approach crafty godmen to augment our efforts in seeking divine intervention. They immediately set about using the godsent opportunity to their best.

Most of us, if not all, grew up with the phrase, “What will others think?” It has been used by our parents and elders to effectively rein us in. Our life has evolved around the concept of external validation of right and wrong. 

What will people think when we are in the deep? The guy must have done something bad to be suffering this! Who wants to be seen as having sinned in this life or in the earlier ones? Nobody, especially the afflicted, would. There is another side to this line of thought, equally bad. People tend to think that others will be happy seeing them in a state of suffering. So, they deliberately get into denial mode to prevent others from saying, “This wasn't good enough for him!”

When I reached this stage of the article, I decided to call my friend in Mumbai and check with her my deductions. She agreed with me on what I had concluded. She, a firm believer, told me that she did not ask, “Why me?” I concede, but she would be an exception rather than a rule. 

Did she share her problem with others? 

Yes. She shared her predicament with a very few. The reason she gave me was revealing. When people come to know of an issue, the first response is normally sympathy, genuine or make-believe. The discussion has only one natural course of progression. Usually, it is about people they know and have faced similar situations, and the terrible times they went through. In the garb of providing moral support, the sympathy-talk normally puts the fear of the devil in the person who is already suffering. “I shared the news with a very few, and you were one among those few. I had not disclosed it even to my mother that time,” she replied.

“Why did you share the news with me?” I asked.

“I knew you would not put on a show of sympathy. I trusted you,” she said.

That answered it all. In times of need, there are just a few whom we can trust. Yet, we need to find someone, however helpless they may be, to share our fears and worries. Do not let our thoughts become crabs.

My friend from Mumbai and I talk whenever we feel like. We still laugh a lot. There is happiness in our conversation, even when the chips are down. 

 

PS: Gratitude to Dr Abraham Kuruvilla, a renowned counsellor, for helping me refine my thoughts on the subject.

 

DISCOVERY OF THE DEADLY COCKTAIL - 1965 INDIA PAKISTAN WAR

 

In the previous part of the article, we dealt with the political situation in Pakistan in 1965. 

India Post-Independence

Despite the 1962 war, India's internal politics were generally peaceful. Attention was focused on the growth of the country. The country had inherited an economy in a dire state. Much of the population was living on farm-related income. Industrialisation was the need of the hour. Strong foundations had to be put in place. Political leaders of that time realised the necessity of long-term planning to ensure the nation's progress and prosperity. The concept of five-year plans was thus born. The first five-year plan (April 1951 to March 1956) was launched by Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru.

Interestingly, the total outlay of the first 5-year project was ₹2,069 crores, which was later revised to ₹2378 crores. Irrigation and energy (27.2%), transport and communication (24%), agriculture and community development (17.4%), and social services, including education and health (16.6%) were the major heads for which funds were allotted. Industry and minerals received 8.4% and rehabilitation of landless farmers received 4.1% of the allocation. Everything else put together got the rest. The outcome of the five-year plan was that the economy achieved annual GDP growth of 3.6% against a modest target of 2.1%. 

The major projects that came up during this period were the Bhakra Nangal Dam, the Hirakud Dam, the modernisation of the Mettur Dam, and the expansion of the irrigation facilities. The areas of focus of the government are clear from the allocations. The second 5-year plan from April 56 to March 61 had a total outlay of 4,800 crores, a more than 100 per cent jump. In this plan, the focus shifted to developing industry and minerals, along with transport and communication, getting 65% of the total share. Agricultural and community development received 21%. Defence was not included in the allocation but was considered as a non-planned expenditure. Even today, it remains like that. War was not a planned item but a contingency forced on the country. 

The 1962 war inflicted serious injury on India's economy. The defence expenditure of ₹269.9 crore in 1959-60 increased to ₹ 310.17 crores in 60-61, ₹343.63 crores in 61-62 and jumped to ₹503.99 crores in 62-63. In 64-65, it jumped to ₹718 crores and in 66-67, it went up to ₹749 crores. This huge jump in expenditure is attributed to the direct and indirect costs of the war. Based on the recommendations of the Subrahmanyam committee after the 1962 war, defence allocations were increased. Those of us who feel that the planners and leaders misread the enemies around India and ignored the army must understand that the country was reeling under repeated droughts and failed crops. Between 1960 and 1964, India imported 17 million tonnes of food from the US. Food shortage was managed through institutionalised rationing systems. 

According to data available on educational sites, the per capita income of India in 1948-49 was ₹225, or ₹18.75 per month. In 1964-65, it was ₹481, or ₹40.09 per month. While in absolute value terms it may seem a pittance today, a growth of 114% had been achieved in 16 years; in economic terms, considering the conditions then, the growth was significant. However, there was no mistaking the fact that the country was poor and required attention for all-around development. On 1 December 1963, Nagaland became the 16^th state of India. 

Unrelated Events of Consolidation and Disruptions 

Ayub Khan, who had come to power through a bloodless coup in October 1958 and had declared himself field marshal in October 1959, assumed the presidency of the Pakistan Muslim League on 24 December 1963. With this, he consolidated his authority. There were protests, but he suppressed all the opposition.

Call it a coincidence, on 27 December 1963, a major disruption took place in Kashmir. The holy relic at Hazratbal Shrine was reported stolen. This led to a major public agitation that turned violent and threatened to spiral out of control. Radio Pakistan and Pakistani newspapers carried it as the main news and projected it as India’s deliberate disrespect for Islam and Kashmiris. One of the demands of the agitating crowd was a plebiscite. Jawaharlal Nehru, the Prime Minister, immediately stepped in and ordered an enquiry under the CBI head, Mr BN Mullick. Protests continued till the relic mysteriously reappeared on 4 January 1964. 

On 6 January 1964, the Governor of West Pakistan banned the opposition party Jamaat-e-Islami and arrested its leader, Abul Ala Maududi. Around the same time Anti anti-Hindu riots erupted in Khulna, East Pakistan. Why in East Pakistan? There was perceivable inequity in the economic growth of the GDP of East and West Pakistan. While the GDP of the West grew at 4.4% from 1960 to 1965, the East clocked in only at 2.6%. Famines and poverty were taking their toll. It was easy to turn the anger against the Hindus. Loss of the relic was just a ruse. The riots in Khulna triggered counter riots in Calcutta and other places.

Although the relic had been retrieved, crowds continued to protest. They raised doubts about the authenticity of the recovered relic. The Prime Minister immediately deputed Lal Bahadur Shastri to handle the issue. He ordered a public Deedar on 3 February 1964. Religious heads, trusted by the public, certified the authenticity of the recovered relic. It cooled tempers. 

Any sane mind would know that the relic had nothing to do with the plebiscite. The two were not even remotely connected. But the demands of the plebiscite, being raised along with the relic going missing, would not have been unintentional. Armed with the wisdom of hindsight, we can with conviction say that the first seeds of religious incitement had been sown, to be harvested, not once but again, at will and whenever it suited them. Rulers in Pakistan had discovered the easiest, cheapest, and most effective way of consolidating their position whenever domestic unrest troubled them. The deadly cocktail of religion and politics converging into covert or overt military operations was on its way.

Ever since the Hazratbal incident took place, communal and political disorder increased, and the law-and-order situation in Jammu and Kashmir deteriorated. Ghulam Mohammed, who had been the Prime Minister of Kashmir since 1953, resigned under pressure in January 1964. Khwaja Shamsuddin was sworn in as the new Prime Minister. His government fell in February 1964, and Ghulam Mohammad Sadiq, viewed as a reliable ally of the Government of India, was appointed the Prime Minister. He is believed to have played a significant role in bringing calm to Kashmir after the unrest over the Hazratbal incident. 

A Chapter in Indian Politics 

On 27 May 1964, Pundit Jawaharlal Nehru, the pivot of Indian politics since independence, passed away. He was 74 and had been in failing health after suffering a massive stroke in January 64. Nehru had been in various jails for his role in the struggle for Indian independence for a total of 3,259 days. The longest spell of his incarceration was from August 1942 to June 1945. It was during this stretch of 2 years and 10 months, in prison he authored “The Discovery of India,” one among the many he had written. An advocate of nonalignment in an era of superpower alignment, widely respected visionary statesman, prolific writer, and visionary, Nehru romanticised the concept of freedom and equality for people and laid the foundation of the country’s infrastructural growth. 

The Congress party chose Lal Bahadur Shastri as the next Prime Minister. He took office on 31 May 1964, beginning a new chapter in Indian politics. Government of India, with the concurrence of the Jammu and Kashmir State Government, as required by the Constitution, amended the 1954 Presidential Order. This political act extended the authority of the union government for the application of constitutional tools for emergencies, as it had in other states. The post of “Prime Minister” of Jammu and Kashmir was renamed as “Chief Minister.” This is considered a significant step in bringing Jammu and Kashmir more within the framework of the Constitution of India. A lot of things were happening in the neighbourhood around the same time. They all had a direct and indirect bearing on India.

Nuclear Ambitions

On 16 October 1964, China tested its first nuclear device at the Lop Nur test site in Xinjiang. The device codenamed "596" was a uranium-235 implosion fission bomb with an estimated yield of 22 kilotons. With this test, China became the fifth nuclear power. The United States, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, and France had already declared themselves nuclear powers.

At this point, it is important to bring out India’s progress in the field of nuclear technology. Homi Jehangir Bhabha, a professor at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore, had met Nehru sometime in 1944. Nehru believed that the country’s growth to be sustainable had to come from science and modernisation. Once India became independent and Nehru became the Prime Minister, he retained the Ministry of Science with him. Bhabha became the scientific advisor to the Prime Minister on atomic matters. 

The scientific policy resolution of 1948, which projected science as the tool for national development and self-reliance, is said to have been influenced by Bhabha. The Indian Atomic Energy Commission was established in 1948 with Bhabha as its first Chairman. Bhabha is said to have enjoyed near autonomous control over the atomic energy decisions under Nehru's government. In 1954, Bhabha drew up a 3-stage “nuclear power” plan. It envisaged using Thorium reserves to achieve long-term energy security. It was fully backed by Nehru. Once Nehru passed away, Bhabha did not receive the same patronage from Lal Bahadur Shastri. When China tested its nuclear device, Homi Bhabha is said to have approached the Prime Minister requesting approval for making nuclear bombs. However, Shastri did not heed the call and permitted only the pursuit of peaceful uses of nuclear energy. Bhabha died in an air crash on 24 January 1966. 

Shape of Things to Come

Relations with Nepal also hit turbulence around that time. The 1950 Indo-Nepal Treaty of Peace and Friendship determined the contours of the bilateral relations. It ensured open borders, free movement of people between the two countries, and mutually beneficial security arrangements. However, some Nepali leaders sowed dissent, saying that the Treaty was unequal and India was dominating Nepal. India's defeat in the war with China encouraged people to look towards China. To make matters worse, King Mahendra of Nepal, who assumed direct control of the kingdom after dismissing the elected government in 1960, became close to China.

In 1965, Pakistan witnessed serious political agitations. The presidential election in January 1965 was widely considered to have been rigged in favour of Ayub Khan. The conditions called for an urgent diversion. Pakistan had already incited religious sentiments in the valley. It was time to harvest.

On 6 April 1965, Pakistani Rangers attacked the Sardar Post and the Kanjarkot Fort.  India, reeling under the defeat in the 1962 war, still in the process of reorganisation and regrouping, was caught unawares and lost ground in the beginning, but regained most of it. The clashes are believed to have peaked between 21 and 24 April. According to information available in the public domain, President Ayub Khan is said to have approached Prime Minister Harold Wilson of the United Kingdom for a ceasefire. Prime Minister Harold Wilson approached Lal Bahadur Shastri, who agreed, leading to the ceasefire on 01 May 1965. 

Once the ceasefire came into effect, both sides agreed to establish the India-Pakistan Western boundary case Tribunal, also known as the Kutch Tribunal, under the auspices of the United Nations. The Tribunal had three members, one each from India and Pakistan and one neutral member appointed in consultation with both members. Sir Huber Opperman, an Australian judge and diplomat, was selected over Sir Cyril Radcliffe, the man who drew the Radcliffe line! The Tribunal studied historical maps, various land records and the control of the ground before the operations to reach the verdict. On 19 February 1968, in one of those rare conclusive Tribunal awards, Pakistan was awarded 910 square kilometres of the 9000 square kilometres they had claimed in the Kutch.

The Kutch operations emboldened Pakistan. It would also have led India to believe that Pakistan would not wage war anytime soon. A ceasefire had just been reached, and the talks about border settlement were proceeding well. The Kutch operation strengthened Ayub Khan’s position in the country. He decided to take it further. Kashmir was the easiest way forward. The grounds had been prepared. President Mohammad Ayub Khan decided to wrest control of Kashmir. Pakistan launched Operation Gibraltar in August 1965.

Rethink

Operation Gibraltar is considered by most people as the cause of the 1965 operations. While their wisdom cannot be questioned, the offensive launched by the Pakistani Army Rangers in April 1965 cannot be seen in isolation from the war that followed. In fact, it was the Kutch operations that led to Operation Gibraltar, though they were geographically distant.

Looking back into history, one can see that internal disturbances in Pakistan and a security issue in India are like Siamese twins. 

We will see more of it as we proceed…  

 

(To be continued)

 

ON OUR JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF THE UNPARALLELED – THE 1965 WAR

 

Ferocity, in battles on the land and duels in the air, was the hallmark of the second Indo-Pakistan war of 1965. Many books have been written, on both sides of the border, about the war and its battles, both in the air and on the land. Carefully researched facts, figures, and diagrams outlining the progress of operations lend an essence of authority to the work. Each story, replete with grit and valour, with all the attendant ghastly details finely woven in, makes compelling narratives that deify domestic military heroes and demonise the adversary. Straying from the truth while writing about battles is an honourable compulsion, soaked in nationalism. After all, war has never been about absolute truth, and history, the narrative of the victor. 

But what happens when both parties declare themselves victors? Deja Vu?

This article, like the previous three on India’s unparalleled wars, will not take us through individual battles. We will navigate mostly through the causes to understand what happened, briefly touching upon the war, in search of unparalleled aspects. The war is said to have begun on 6 September 1965 when India launched a full-scale counterattack across the international border and headed towards Lahore. It ended in a Soviet brokered ceasefire declared on 22 September 1965. Ironically, both countries declared themselves the winners in the war. Sensing parallels and the unparalleled?

The term “counterattack” clearly indicates that there was an attack by Pakistan on India, to which India responded. Why would Pakistan attack India in 1965, out of the blue? The obvious answer that everybody can easily peddle is that the unfinished Kashmir business had to be completed. After all, the previous war, fought in 1947, was about Kashmir.  The United Nations Security Council Resolution 47 of 21 April 1948 had brought the first war to a ceasefire operative on 1 January 1949. Resolution 47 was only an expansion of Resolution 39, adopted on 20 January 1948. Resolution 39, the second on the Kashmir dispute, was to investigate the issue, bring out the facts and recommend ways to settle the differences between the two parties. Resolution 47 now mandated the three-step process of ceasefire, withdrawal of troops and plebiscite. Both parties were to withdraw all their military forces from the area. Claims and counterclaims aside, demilitarisation never happened. The first step was never taken. There were 12 resolutions on Kashmir before the war, mostly on issues brought up by Pakistan. All these resolutions either set conditions for the process to move forward or reaffirmed what had already been said. Interestingly, the last resolution on Kashmir before the 1965 was Resolution 209, adopted on 4 September 1965 was passed after the Pakistani Troops had crossed into the Rann of Kutch. 

Was the 1965 war, therefore, the result of Pakistan’s frustration with 16 years of waiting? 

Well, let us explore a little more before we form an opinion.

On 28 September 1965, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, in his speech in the United Nations General Assembly, complained that Pakistan had repeatedly approached the Security Council since 1948 for a solution and that it had exhausted peaceful diplomatic means. That speech certainly said nothing about their efforts to demilitarise the area. Delivered after the war, it was more of a justification of the misadventure. Only the gullible would fall for this explanation. If military action was the way out, it could have happened just after 1962. India was at its weakest militarily and economically. If Pakistan had launched an attack simultaneously with the China war, it would have had a major impact on India. Politically, India was also weak at that time.

War is the military implementation of a political decision. Wars do not originate out of nothing. It commences when one country feels that either the conditions of the adversary are conducive or favourable enough to launch an offensive, or when domestic conditions warrant a move against the adversary.  When the military leader is himself the political head, the distance between decision and execution diminishes. Waging war then becomes the first and easiest option. While the conditions within India would have been favourable for Pakistan to launch an attack then, it did not happen. Certainly, something else would have been the reason.

Let us look for it.

The post-independence march of the country with Mohammad Ali Jinnah as its first Governor General ceased in 1948 with his death. Said to have been diagnosed with tuberculosis in 1930, he developed lung cancer and died on 11 September 1948, barely a year after Pakistan had won independence. Pakistan plunged into a very turbulent period of power transfer. Khawaja Nazimuddin became the second Governor General of Pakistan, and Mr Liaquat Ali Khan, already the prime minister, with Mohammed Ali Jinnah, continued in office. On 17 January 1951, Mr Liaquat Ali Khan made Mohammad Ayub Khan a general and the first commander-in-chief of the Pakistan army, replacing General Sir Douglas Gracy. Liaquat Ali Khan was assassinated on 16 October 1951.

The assassin, Saad Akbar Babrak, an Afghan National, was shot dead immediately, and the reasons for the assassination, undiscovered or undisclosed, were buried with him. Incidentally, Liaquat Ali Khan had survived an attempted coup in March 1951. Khwaja Nazimuddin, the Governor General of Pakistan, became the Prime Minister. Gulam Mohammed, the finance minister, was appointed as the Governor General. On 23 March 1956, Pakistan became an Islamic Republic, and the office of the Governor General was replaced with that of the President. Major General Iskander Mirza (retd) became the first President of Pakistan. Meanwhile, governance had deteriorated, and the common man had started feeling the impact. The divide between various regions of the country aggravated, leading to political instability.

Meanwhile, Pakistan exploited the Cold War conditions to beef up its military hardware. On 19 May 1954, it signed the Mutual Defence Assistance Agreement (MDAA) with the USA in Karachi. The USA, in pursuit of the Truman Doctrine to contain communism, found the geographical proximity of Pakistan suited to its plans against the Soviet Union and China. India was not willing to play second fiddle to the US in their Cold War efforts. MDAA fetched Pakistan tanks, fighter planes, transport planes, radar systems and naval ships. Pakistani military officers went to the US for training. 

Pakistan received more than $900 million worth of military equipment, effectively bridging the military hardware disparity it faced after partition. Interestingly, all this military hardware, according to the agreement, was to be used exclusively for internal security, legitimate self-defence or participation in the United Nations’ duties. (Rings a familiar bell? The USA did that again later. Starting January 1983, Peace Gate 1 Program delivered 28 F-16 A, 12 F-16 B, besides other military hardware to Pakistan, all for counter terrorist and counterinsurgency operations. In February 2025, the Trump administration released $ 300 out of the $ 450 million funds sanctioned by the Biden Administration in September 2022.) 

On 7 October 1958, the President of Pakistan abrogated the constitution, dismissed the central and provincial governments, declared martial law and appointed General Mohammed Ayub Khan, then the army commander-in-chief, as the Chief Martial Law Administrator. On 27 October 1958, hardly a fortnight later, Ayub Khan removed Mirza, in a bloodless coup, exiled him to London and became President himself. He also retired from the army that day! Since the public was already dissatisfied with how the country was run, the coup seems to have been welcomed. President Ayub Khan introduced many land reforms and strengthened the relationship with the United States.

On 27 October 1959, Ayub Khan’s presidential government declared him a Field Marshal. On that same day, the government also introduced a system called “Basic Democracy”. The country was divided into 80,000 “Basic Democratic” units, and each such unit was to elect one representative called the “Basic Democrat.” Pakistan now had 80,000 local representatives to ensure grassroots governance. In 1962, through the newly promulgated constitution that advocated a presidential system, Ayub Khan consolidated power in his hands. Despite curbs on political freedom, Pakistan under Field Marshal Ayub Khan achieved significant economic growth. The benefits of the modernisation and industrial growth seemed to favour West Pakistan. East Pakistan felt politically and economically marginalised, and the divide between the two became glaring. 

On 13 October 1962, one week before China attacked India, Pakistan commenced negotiations with China over disputed territories. The talks culminated in Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Chen Yi, the two foreign ministers, signing the Sino-Pakistan boundary agreement on 2 March 1963. China ceded about 750 square miles while Pakistan gave away more than 2,050 square miles, mostly in the Gilgit-Baltistan area that India claimed ownership. China also gave $60 million interest-free loan to support Pakistan’s economy and strengthen military cooperation.

On 2 January 1965, Pakistan went in for a presidential election. The electoral college of 80,000 Basic Democrats voted. The public had nothing to do with the election. The main contestants were Mohammad Ayub Khan and Fatima Jinnah, the sister of the founder of Pakistan, backed by a coalition of all the opposition parties. Ayub Khan is said to have polled 49,951 votes. Fatima Jinnah, who contested as the mother of the nation, gathered only 28,691 votes. The other two contestants, both independents, Mahmud Ali Kasuri, polled 2,847, and Ghulam Muhammad Sadiq got 1,106.  The total number of votes polled exceeded the official electoral college by 2,595. Naturally, there were complaints of vote manipulation in favour of the sitting president. This led to widespread agitation alleging rampant vote rigging. The urban areas of West Pakistan and most areas of East Pakistan (Now Bangladesh) saw protests. The public turned against the ruler, and Ayub Khan's legitimacy as the President took a severe blow. Something was required to quell the rising discontentment and opposition and redeem the trust of the public in the presidency. Uniting the country against an existential threat was the best way forward.

Meanwhile, India had already lost a war with China. Conditions were perfect now.

Would Kashmir be the objective? We will find out in the next part.

 (NOTE: Picture GROK generated)

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(To be continued…)