Open Secrets: The Explosive Memoirs of an Indian Intelligence Officer (13 page)

Land was in short supply. The hill tribals were allowed to purchase land in the valley. But the valley Hindus were not allowed to acquire landed property in the hills. Pressure on land alienated the farmers. Unemployment among the rural youth mounted. The urban Hindu youths were not better off either. Denied of the facilities of good education they were neglected in the recruitment of simple white-collar jobs. Most of the government jobs were auctioned to the highest bidders and in most such matters the Indian officers enjoyed the privilege of casting the decisive vote. The place reeked with corruption. Most of the ordinary Indian bureaucrat/technocrat came to Manipur with leaner pockets but went home with fatter ones. It was, for them, indeed a land of jewels.

There was no heavy and medium industry. The small-scale industries were confined to hand looms and a few power looms. A few Indians were encouraged to set up some nondescript industries. One of them was recommended for the Padma award by the Chief Commissioner for his achievement in running a Hume Pipe factory. That was the acme of industrialisation in Manipur.

The ‘
nupi
’ (female) segment of the Meitei society always dominated the economic efforts in the valley, like their sisters in Burma and Thailand. But the sudden influx of ‘
Marwari
’ business houses in the handloom sector had started complicating the market scenario. They made advances to the women weavers, monopolised the supply of yarns and dyes and enjoyed the exclusive rights of marketing the Manipuri products to the rest of India.

The Meitei, suffering from the illusion of past grandeur and a fabricated sense of being cheated into a merger with India could hardly find any other target, but India to blame for their woes. The situation was compounded by the ambience of insurgency in the Naga and Mizo inhabited areas. That violence alone could bend the knees of mighty Delhi was the inevitable lesson drawn by the disillusioned Meiteis. India, the theatre of the philosophy of peace and democracy propounded by Gandhi, had allowed violence to become an integral part of the quasi-democratic means of grievance redressal. The imperialist concept of treating the genuine grievances of the people simply as ‘law and order’ problems and inability of the system to respond to the peaceful and legal means of democratic agitation had firmly rooted in the minds of the people that the ‘
sarkars
’ (governments) only understood the language of violence. The Nagas got a State only after they took up arms. The Khasis too were granted statehood after being threatened of Pakistan inspired insurgency. In independent India violence had become a part of civic expression. Most Indians had turned violence prone with the progressive failures of the post-independence administration. Anarchy ruled in the name of democracy. These messages were not lost on the Meiteis too.

The other irritating factor was the imperious style of functioning of the Chief Commissioner. He did not hesitate to treat the elected members of the legislative assembly as dirt. He shabbily treated the ministers, often the Chief Minister. He brazenly interfered in the functioning of the elected legislature and treated the powerful vernacular media as the mouthpieces of the valley rebels. Only the sycophants and a coterie of mainland Indian traders were happy with his performance. But Baleshwar Prasad was the blue-eyed boy of a section of the top bureaucracy and a few top cats in the intelligence fraternity. In Manipur he was feared by all and hated by many. I was not supposed to report on the style of functioning of the Chief Commissioner. This was firmly conveyed to me by my Deputy Director at Kohima though the regional boss at Shillong often evinced keen interest in the impact of the working style of Delhi’s top man at Imphal. Later I happened to gather that his inquisitiveness was prompted by his not so happy relationship with his colleague back in Delhi, Mr. K.N.Prasad, who was related to the Chief Commissioner.

Whatever it is, I used my understanding of the hapless Meitei society to my advantage for creating penetrating intelligence assets. By August 1969 the SIB had gained some breather and I had gained access to certain inner cores of the gathering cloud over the placid vale of Imphal.

*

The health of the SIB in the insurgency infested hill tracts was not good either. I inherited a few established posts connected by road and wireless at Ukhrul, Chassad (Burma border) Churachandpur, (Burma border) Mao (Nagaland border) and Moreh, (Burma border). The posts at Jiribam (Assam border), Thanlon (Mizoram border), and Tamenglong (N C Hills border) were not connected by motor-able road but were linked to Imphal by HF wireless. The vital intelligence posts in the insurgency-infested areas were manned by one officer, more often an ACIO II or a Junior Intelligence Officer I and at best of times three constables. The ACIO II in charge of the wireless station did not assist in intelligence generation. He and his counterpart on the general intelligence side lived in watertight domains. They often indulged in turf war, whatever turf they had in the remote and primitive locations.

Naga insurgency was at its peak when I was thrown into the ring to lead a truncated corps of intelligence ‘officers’, primitive communication facilities, restricted mobility and absolute empty bag of technical, electronic, signals, photo and other aids of generating intelligence. The facilities of FAX and Internet were not in vogue and a photocopier was considered a Martian concept. The telephone system was primitive and for a long distance call one had to resort to the imperious ‘important and lightening’ priority. The Telex connection to Delhi was routed through Kohima and very often, especially during the extended monsoon season, the link remained dead. Armed with all these assets and burdens the SIB was supposed to generate intelligence, both tactical and strategic, covering the activities of the Naga and Mizo insurgents and the valley volcano, which was showing tectonic characteristics of an imminent cataclysmic blow up.

Delhi was mainly concerned with the Naga and Mizo bugs. They as well as the Chief Commissioner at Imphal were not prepared to believe that the Meiteis too could wake up and start protesting against their genuine plights and grievances. They rated the Meities much below the Assamese, who were described as ‘
lahe lahe
’ (take it easy) people. It had become rather impossible to convince Delhi that the placid surfaces were rumbling with the bodings of imminent conflagration.

In a battered, singed and threatened society the thin film between genuine and perceived grievances often get obliterated due to continuous neglect and lack of action by the state authorities. The Meiteis suffered from an impression that their king was tricked into signing an agreement with India. They were fearful of the consequences of insurgency in the Naga and Mizo Hills. They loathed the demand for a greater Nagaland. They were deprived of all the benefits of merging with India. The neo-imperial masters, the Chief Commissioner and his band of officers, did not consider the Meities worth of a genuine democratic administration and rapid economic development. Their behavioural patterns were lifted out of the books and diaries of the British political agents and their occupation forces. Continuous neglect often metamorphoses into confrontation and failure to remove the elements that strengthen the ambience of confrontation generally lead to violence. Manipur was not required to copy the tactics of gaining concession through violence from Bengal and Bihar. The next door Nagas, Mizos, Khasis and Garos had already embarked upon the path of violence and as usual the democratic institutions of India had started buckling down under the intense heat of military engagement.

Manipur is a unique example of Indian expertise in allowing the simple democratic aspirations of the people for better political dispensation, economic advancement and cultural assimilation to degenerate into a cult of violence. Assam emulated the Meiteis after about two decades.

In fact, the post independence Indian political and bureaucratic rulers had succeeded in enshrining the cult of violence as a semi-statutory means of grievance redressal. They allowed the genuine aspirations of the people to be trampled and ignored and subsequently handling the violent venting of the accumulated frustration as a law and order problem. The state governments and the Union ministry of internal affairs had perfected the battle order of deputing police and paramilitary forces to fighting the violent segment of the people, who were, at the first instance, were allowed to choose violent means to express their genuine and perceived grievances over peaceful constitutional means. Somewhere some vested interests in the political and bureaucratic edifices of the country worked assiduously to bury the concepts of constitutional grievance redressing mechanics and promoted the cult of violence. They blindly followed the British attitude in dealing with the post-independent Indians who had assumedly given themselves an elaborate constitution and several layers of legal guarantees. The politicians and bureaucrats simply looted the public exchequer in the name of maintaining law and order. They were neither interested nor capable of addressing the grievances of the people.

This is the widest of the innumerable fault lines of the Indian polity.

TALE OF THE SHATTERED JEWEL

Hope springs eternal in human breast.

Alexander Pope

My access to the Hindu Meitei society was facilitated by a couple of factors. I belonged to a Bengali Vaishnava family and could sing well some of the traditional ‘
kirtan
’ songs in praise of Lord Krishna and Mahaprabhu Gauranga, around whom the Gaudiya (the tract of Gaud-Bengal) format of Vaishnavism had flourished. The Meities were converted to the Gaudiya format of Vaishnavism. I was given free access to the palace temple and play the ‘
khol
’ (a special percussion drum) that had become an integral part of the
kirtan
format of spiritual songs and the unique format of Manipuri dance.

I used my Vaishnava credential fully to cultivate the elders like Maharajkumar Priyabrata, Rajkumar Madhuryajit, Leisram Joychandra Singh, and M. Deveshwar Dev Sharma, some of the stalwarts of the traditional Meitei society.

Tackling the younger lot was both a fun and fearful experience. They had been contaminated by the ambience of insurgency in neighbouring Nagaland and Lushai Hills. Independence struggle of the neighbouring Chin, Shan, Kachin and White and Red Flag Communists of Myanmar allured them. They were inspired more by the exploits of the Marxist-Leninist Extremists of Bengal and the allegorical exploits of Prince Bir Tikendrajit and the communist revolutionary H. Irabot Singh. They were also inspired by the Meitei revivalist movement, which denounced the merger of Manipur with India. They strived for the revival of the
Sanamahi
worship, restoration of the
Kangla
, the mythological site of the Meitei deities and replacement of the Bengali script with the ancient Meitei script.

It wasn’t an easy job to penetrate the Meitei youths. They were suspicious and fearful of the Indian officials and gradually started hating all the Indians, the
mayang
s, as they liked to call the outsiders. They nursed a grudge that the Bengalis of Assam and the governmental authorities in Gwahati and Delhi had encouraged the Vishn
upri
ya Manipuris (The Meiteis living in Cachar and East Pakistan) as the genuine representatives of the Meitei people.

The cultural conflict was strengthened by the sordid state of affairs of the economy. Manipur, way back in 1968, had very little to boast of its economy. With a high percentage of literacy the youths were denied the opportunity of higher education in general and specialised streams. The affluent sent their children to Shillong, Gwahati and Calcutta for higher education. Scholarships were limited and were distributed to the court jesters of the Chief Commissioner and the wards of the elite.

I was given to understand by certain delicate sources that the caste system among the Meiteis could be exploited easily. The clan of Rajkumars, and Singhs were more obdurate type. They considered themselves having descended from the Thai lineage. The Sharmas, all Brahmins, were considered as Indians of mixed Aryan-Thai stock.

It was difficult to penetrate the ideologically fired Meitei youths. The revolutionary outfits like the United National Liberation Front and the Revolutionary Government of Manipur had been exposed to the Naga, the Mizo insurgents, and the agents of the Inter Services Intelligence of Pakistan, the Pakistan Intelligence Bureau, and the Directorate of Military Intelligence of Pakistan cultivated them.

By the time I settled down, I was greeted by a series of reports from the outpost at Jiribam and assorted reports from my friends in the Zeliagroung Naga and Paite and Hmar tribal communities that the ISI had set up camps for the Meitei youths somewhere in Sylhet. The deal between the Meiteis and the Pakistani intelligence agencies was cemented by Z.Ramyo, a Tangkhul Naga rebel leader, and Thinousille Angami, a self styled Brigadier of the outlawed Naga army. Oinam Sudhir, Arambam Somorendra and N. Bisheshwar were in contact with the Pakistani operators. I was told that 150 Meitei youths had left for East Pakista n for undergoing training.

My reports to Delhi were treated as over reaction of a greenhorn. They as well as the Chief Commissioner and his entourage were not ready to accept my views on the formation of the Revolutionary Government of Manipur and its cadre being trained in East Pakistan. The Inspector General of Police, Madan Gopal Singh, promoted from the ranks, treated my reports as jokes and the Chief Secretary D.G. Bhave, an IAS Officer from Madhya Pradesh, thought that a greenhorn with only about four years experience was trying to act smart. They dismissed me right away and the Chief Commissioner pulled me up for acting under panic reaction

My immediate boss at Kohima, Mr. M. N. Gadgil, was a good soul. But I must say that he was far from suitable for the job of an intelligence technocrat, that too at a highly sensitive station like Kohima. He was overshadowed by my efficient colleague J.N.Roy and was fortunately assisted by a dedicated band of intelligence operators. The efficient system of the Intelligence Bureau stood between Gadgil and intelligence blackout.

My position was further vindicated by the advance SIB reports about commission of a series of bank robbery and snatching of police weapons by the Meitei ultras.

A daring bank robbery, as forewarned by the SIB, was committed by the RGM youths when I happened to be in Shillong. Mr. V.V.Chaubal, the senior Deputy Director at Shillong, was the supervisory head of all the SIBs in Northeast India. I was in the midst of a meeting with the regional boss when Madan Gopal Singh, the Inspector General of Manipur, happened to call Chaubal. The conversation did not amuse my boss. He called me to a corner and congratulated me for the accurate reports on the activities of the RGM. Nevertheless, he warned about the lurking suspicion of Madan Gopal Singh about my clandestine linkages with the Meitei outlaws. He advised me to scrupulously follow the tradecraft techniques of agent contacting and movements in the valley and in the hills.

“Do you suspect me?”

I asked.

“No. Madan Gopal is basically an inspector of police. He suffers from the wounds of his limitations. An inspector follows a handler if he can’t follow the agent. He may compromise your agents.”

“That’s reasonable,” I replied, “More than he the Chief Commissioner is very keen to throw me out of Manipur.”

“Why?”

“That’s a long story. I hope I’d survive to tell you the story at a later date.”

*

My penetration into the Meitei society was not complete. But my exploration of the fault lines of that society followed unconventional contours. Rishang Keishing, K. Envy, both Tangkhul political leaders, and K.Kakuthon, president of the Zelangroung Naga Union, rendered valuable services. In me they found a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. In those days of political naiveté the simple tribal politicians treated the SIB chief as the direct representative of the Central Government. The situation has now reversed. The state politicians these days carry fatter suitcases for Delhi politicians and bureaucrats than the paltry amount the SIB reps could pay them way back in sixties and seventies.

A condemned Tangkhul Naga officer, L.Hungyo, suddenly sprang into action and started delivering precious intelligence inputs. I must express my gratitude to a young Hmar tribal youth, Dinglien Sanate, who just passed out of college and spearheaded the Hmar National Volunteer Force. Local officers like Soithang Hmar and Thangkaling Paite assisted Dinglien.

My exploration of the fault lines of the Meitei society paid rewarding dividends. A few top functionaries of the RGM and the UNLF were recruited as paid agents of the Intelligence Bureau. One of them was deputed to East Pakistan with a definitive brief. He returned with conclusive celluloid evidence of training camps run by the ISI at Srimangal and Kulaura in the district of Sylhet. One of the meetings between Oinam Sudhir and an ISI agent called Hashim Chaudhry (surprisingly most of them introduce themselves to Indian agents as Chaudhry) was recorded on tape and delivered to me.

Another top functionary of the RGM, a handsome Brahmin Meitei boy provided me with running commentaries on the policy and strategic formulations of the self-styled government he represented. He was a very sensitive young person. Our meetings normally took place in the outskirts of Imphal town. For such clandestine meetings I did not use my official car. Devkishore Sharma used to escort me to the distant foothills to the east, marshy villages around the Loktak Lake and often to the paddy fields around Kakching, Thoubal and Bishenpur.

Clever though was my unique RGM asset, he was highly ebullient and buoyant and violent in nature. Very often he would resort to prolong drinking binge and in Devkishore he found an open-air bar mate. I had tried to educate both Devkishore and the agent about the ill effects of over indulgence. But I had no illusion in my mind that the frustrated Meitei youths had taken to alcohol and drugs of cannabis origin for escaping to the realm of fantasy. I pitied with them. But I was no messiah. I had a job to do. And as an intelligence operative I had no better weapon than flooding the gullets of the Meitei youths with IMFL, Indian made foreign liquor. As an Indian I rue the option I had taken. I would’ve not resorted to such tactics if I weren’t compelled by the circumstances and my tradecraft had not propelled me to that line of operation..

However, no opportunity to explain the historical imperatives of Manipur being a part of India and the Manipuris playing a greater role in shaping the destiny of the nation was left unexplored. I think I succeeded in puncturing the ideological diaphragm of some of the frustrated and rebellious youths. But I had nothing else to offer to them except some cash and intoxicants. Neither the government in Imphal nor the one in Delhi had adopted definitive programme to walk even a few steps towards meeting the aspirations of the Meiteis, who suffered from a feeling that Delhi customarily responded to violence. It was the best language they understood, in the absence of any other mechanism for grievance redressal.

Coming back to the story of the top RGM functionary and Devkishore Sharma I must admit that Madan Gopal, the redoubtable IGP, certainly succeeded in cornering me. The inspector had a hearty laugh when his old tactics outsmarted me.

It was precisely on July 13, my birthday; I was summoned by Baleswar Prasad to the confines of his sprawling Raj Niwas. He did not believe in the niceties of social etiquette, at least not with his juniors.

“I believe that you’re mixed up with the terrorists.”

He charged me like a bull.

“What gives you that impression?”

“How else do you manage to get advance information about their activities?”

“You should feel proud of that,” I replied, “I’m at your disposal. I’m helping your machinery.”

“Introduce some of them to Madan Gopal and R.K. Mohanty.”

The later personality he spoke of was a junior officer of the Intelligence Bureau who helped the Chief Commissioner in administrative matters of the Village Volunteer Force (VVF), a kind of Naga militia raised by the IB and the SSB for fighting the Naga rebels.

“I can’t do that sir.”

“Why?”

“Intelligence assets cannot be shared.”

“They can be snatched away, isn’t it?”

Baleswar Prasad dismissed me with a huge scowl on his face.

That night my birthday party was disturbed by two phone calls. The first one was from Delhi. Mr. K. N. Prasad, the most powerful Deputy Director, reprimanded me for my obduracy and not cooperating with the chief administrator of the territory.

The second call was from S. C. Vaish, the Deputy Commissioner of Manipur Central district.

“Dhar you’re in a jam.”

“What happened sir?”

“Two of your guys are in police custody. They have produced them before me seeking remand order. Come to my place.”

S.C.Vaish, four years senior to me was a perfect gentleman. He was fond of his friends and drinks. I walked down to the next-door residence of Vaish. I was aghast to see my top RGM agent and Devkishore in police custody. Vaish had already downed his usual ounces of Scotch. But he was ever sober. He made the police party wait in an adjacent room. He greeted me with a cigarette and shared the information that Madan Gopal had put a surveillance ring around Devkishore and trapped them in a paddy field when the top RGM functionary was sharing a piece of sensitive information about the intended journey of another 50 Meitei youths to East Pakistan.

“What do I do?”

Baffled as I was I asked Vaish.

“Talk to your man first.”

He asked me to hide behind the curtains and directed one of the police officers to produce Devkishore first.

Devkishore horrendously smelt of stale Sekmai (a local brew). His brief account rattled me. The police had compromised the top RGM agent and they contemplated to register a couple of cases of robbery and a case of murder against him.

A compromised agent was a dead agent. For all professional matters he was lost to me. I was more worried about unscrupulous Madan Gopal. No one could prevent him from spreading the word about the infiltration of the RGM, the UNLF and the Pan Mongolian Movement by the Intelligence Bureau. He could even stoop down to the abyss of treachery by disclosing my identity to the rebel Meitei youths. That would lead to serious security hazard to Sunanda and me and security of the other operations of the IB.

I requested Vaish to release Devkishore and direct police not to press any charge against him. Regarding the RGM youth I requested him to be lenient. He arranged my exclusive meeting with the agent during which I promised all helps to him, including financial assistance to his mother.