https://aliahd66.substack.com/p/general-oberoi-on-one-leg-and-a-prayer
General Oberoi: On One Leg and a Prayer
In a ‘personal mini account’ penned a decade back, Lt Gen Vijay Oberoi recounted his life in uniform and out of it. Its fullness was testified by the title, No Commas; No Pauses; No Full Stops. The details were to follow in a fuller biography, which he was reportedly working on with assistance of his grand-daughter, recently returned with a Masters’ degree from King’s College London. Since the ‘mini account’ whets the appetite for more, the forthcoming book can be expected to further illumine the trajectory India’s post-Independence military.
Given the historical shortage of access to official thinking - routinely made available in public archives in other democratic countries - biographies are one way to tap into India’s strategic turning points. While this route may suffer the drawback of selective and partial perspective, regrettably the attentive public will soon be deprived of even this vestige. The regime’s threat to turn off pensions is out to stifle even sanitized recollections. The outcome will be fewer resources with levels of General Oberoi’s blunt-speak, allowing space for strategic mythologizing to take over.
General Oberoi will be known for many things – not least of which is his post-retirement stewardship of the War Wounded Foundation. He along with three contemporaries – Lt Gen ‘Yogi’ Sharma, Lt Gen Pankaj Joshi and Maj Gen ‘Kartoos’ Cardozo - rose through the ranks despite the war-attributable disability, or rather because of it spurring each on to super the challenge. While this shows the army in good light, each had to contend with individual sceptics making each journey remarkable.
A significant innings of the general was his appointment as founder-director of the Center for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS). His credentials as a ‘soldier-scholar’ were the right mix to take the Indian army into the twenty-first century. Operation Parakram had just wound down and an early lesson learnt was that the limited war window - espied first after the Kargil War - needed to be exploited. Following the footsteps of the air force, the army set up CLAWS with a view to take forward doctrinal thinking. The second edition of the official army doctrine was articulated even as the center was set up. General Oberoi, as head of the Army Training Command (ARTRAC) had overseen the writing up of its first doctrine in 1998. He was thus a default choice. Interestingly, the general rues the pretension that the 2004 doctrine was the first iteration of doctrine!
Outstanding in his ‘soldier’ credentials is that as an infantry officer he was picked to convert a mechanized division into an armoured division, becoming only the second infantry officer to lead one; Sundarji being the first. His three-star commands were of a strike corps and of the Command tasked for offensives, the Western Command. Besides, he had headed the operations branch and had overseen it as vice chief.
He conceptualised the map exercise portion of Exercise (Ex) Brasstacks, receiving the second highest distinguished service medal, rare at one-star level. He later participated in its final version – exercise with troops – as a brigade commander. He followed through as the operations chief with Ex Brahm Astra and, later when at Chandimandir, with Ex Divya Astra. Since the nuclear shadow loomed larger in the period pockmarked with crises ranging from Kashmir to Kargil, conventional doctrine had to delicately keep pace with strategic developments. The general, along with contemporaries as Lt Gen ‘Shammi’ Mehta, thus helped birth the current limited war doctrine, which in its latest avatar has Rudras and Bhairavs at vanguard.
The scholar part of his ‘soldier-scholar’ tag is equally significant. This feature of his personality was noticeable early with his figuring on the prestigious competitive list of the top twenty for the year-long defence staff course. He underwent the National Defence College-equivalent course meant for budding brass-hats at Carlisle. Earlier, he’d tenanted the horizon-widening post as defence attaché in Malaysia. He had a longish tenure at Shimla, heading the training command, since his generation of general officers was lucky to have their years in service extended by two years. This spared him the usual merry-go-round that the ARTRAC chair usually witnesses, allowing him time for reflection.
This author was witness to two instances of the general’s eye for innovation in the period. One was his interest in the infantry assault technique to unlock deliberate defences such as exist in the obstacle-ridden terrain along the Pakistan border. The technique harks back to the German storm troopers of the First World War. In the Indian context the technique was perfected by an officer who had served under the general in his battalion command days (incidentally the first company commander of this writer). It was put out as an ARTRAC training note. Co-incident with the Kargil War, a just-in-time pamphlet on multipronged assaults in mountains adapted the technique to the terrain.
The second instance was in regard to a paper I wrote on educating army officers. Fresh from sabbatical, I pompously advocated that the liberal arts and science educational curriculum at the academies be substituted with hard-core military studies (p. 62). He called me up to Shimla for presenting the paper to the concerned staff. Gratifyingly, and testimony of his attention to detail, some advocated subjects soon started figuring in professional military education curriculum, such as international humanitarian law which was includ by when I underwent the senior command course at the war college. Now, of course, the emphasis is on technology, though one hopes this is not at the cost of understanding war through the more befitting political science lens.
His character-building legacy for officers is of forthrightness. He’d demonstrated this repeatedly, once requesting to be replaced in a senior appointment in military operations directorate, owing to a run-in with someone at headquarters. Later, as military operations head, he yet again bid to be posted out. He stepped down at CLAWS too after contesting restrictions on the autonomy of the fledgling institution. No details of the disagreements figure in his biography prequel, held in reserve for his intended (now posthumous) biography.
From his trenchant critique of the bureaucracy, it can be reasonably surmised that his tiffs were with defence ministry bureaucrats, who - at the time - were known to have authority without responsibility, a characterization by one of their own, ‘Subbu’ Subrahmanyam. To the general, the bureaucracy suffers a ‘feeling of inadequacy or fear their lack of knowledge will stand exposed.’ Today’s incorporation of the military into the ministry and the nascent concept of fusionism owe in part to the fulminations of the military veterans on the bureaucracy forming an intervening layer between the military and the political leadership, redefining civilian control away from political control.
The current generation of brass-hats must contend with the downside of the resulting proximity: the ideological adhesive inherent in fusionism. It has already led to a manipulative and transactional relationship with the military, expanding grey areas on roles such as of a recent tasking of the air force for distributing exam papers. This gives rise to the question if military is signalling ideological compliance, such as by tweaking dress codes, going overboard on perception management or in rhetorical genuflection to viksit’ism, to receive a bounty of sorts?
His legacy on this in his own words, is: ‘There is a moral somewhere here; if you feel strongly about a wrong, do not keep mum and hesitate because of a perceived notion that you are deliberately inviting harm to yourself. One should take action and if there are adverse consequences, so be it!’
An ongoing debate, the general participated in – if not quite precipitated - is on jointness. In his book, he recalls a heated debate with Air Marshal Vinod Patney – who as the most decorated military officer ever was no spring-chicken in the art of repartee. At the Western Command war game in the presence of a bemused defence minister, the debate on the respective roles of land and air forces in prosecuting war can be credited with kicking off the impetus to ‘think purple.’
On the nuclear aspect, the general breathed fire. As an armoured warfare exponent, he required a water-tight nuclear umbrella allowing mechanized pincers to do their thing. To this end, he favoured the official nuclear doctrine, that promises visiting down annihilation for any nuclear first use. Inherent in this is the risk of conventional provocation of indeterminate nuclear thresholds. This threat has receded somewhat lately with operationalization of the limited war doctrine, keeping off nuclear redlines by relying mostly on stand-off delivery of ordnance by drones and missiles. Recent reports on a set of operationally-ready nuclear warheads have set off calls for a doctrinal revision. If conventional war is subject to limitation, surely nuclear war – decidedly more dangerous - also merits like attention.
His military thinking rested on firm foundations laid with the legendary Jangi Paltan, with which right on commissioning he participated in liberating Daman. Come 1965, he was injured in the leg while chasing Pakistani infiltrators in the Dachigam forest near Srinagar. His fellow officer on that patrol, Lt Raut, was fatally injured; testifying to the two sticking to the well-regarded dictum for young officers: lead from the front. The leg amputated, only further energised him into higher endeavour.
As a middle-piece officer, he was the first second-in-command of a new raising. He earned his first distinguished service award in command of the same unit, a rare distinction. The unit’s record has been such as to earn it a tenure at the Rashtrapati Bhawan, where it looks to belatedly celebrate its golden jubilee (full disclosure: it is the unit this author was commissioned into). He went on to tenant the appointment of ‘colonel of the regiment,’ an post threatened with obsolescence under the decolonizing rationale. Both a good and successful officer, he validates the motto most Indian officers live by: ‘karam hi dharm.’
Finally, in the context of the times, it is worth mention that the general was a model secular being. Not only did he court and win his wife, Daulat - herself a product of an inter-religious marriage - but though exposed to the travails of Partition as a young boy, he did not allow its memory to becloud his humanity. He was scathing on prejudices that are at full tide today.
The general walked into the sunset last week. As a privileged recipient of a signed copy of the limited edition No Commas…, I can only pass on the exhortation personally inked by him: ‘Keep Walking!’