Open Secrets: The Explosive Memoirs of an Indian Intelligence Officer (53 page)

BOOK: Open Secrets: The Explosive Memoirs of an Indian Intelligence Officer
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He had succeeded in forming a hardcore group of 25 Sikh youths and another 30 were expected to join him soon. But he did not have sophisticated weapons to arm his boys. The proposal to arm the boys of Jasbir was deliberated at different levels and it was finally agreed upon to recruit some willing fighters from among the Rai and
mazhabi
(scheduled caste) Sikhs and arm them under command of Dalbir Singh Dalla, an acknowledged leader of the Khalistan Commando Force (KCF) and a follower of Jasbir.

I had visited certain areas in Ganganagar in Rajasthan and Ferozepur-Pakistan border areas to recruit some Sikh youths. Some volunteers from Dam Dami Taksal assisted me. The boys were transported to three secret locations around Anandpur Sahib and Ludhiana. They were supplied with few small weapons and were advised to wait for supply of Kalashnikov rifles. The plan, however, received a serious setback when Dalbir Singh Dalla was picked up by police from Ropar bus stand and killed in a faked encounter. The ‘General’ chosen by us was eliminated before he could take charge of his command. This one incident proved that my colleague in the IB and Punjab police were working at cross purposes. Delhi had spent huge amounts for forming a parallel armed group. Thier own Dervish destroyed it.

While I was directed to prepare for a new kind of war to bring in peace Delhi appeared to have come under conflicting pressure. Rajiv Gandhi’s political discomfiture arising out of scandals, intra-party bickering, bad media and economic recession was compounded by conflicting signals that he sent out to Punjab. He was under tremendous pressure to liberate the Golden Temple from the clutches of the killer groups. His Hindu vote bank had turned antagonistic and he was supposed to act decisively to secure the Hindus and innocent Sikhs from the criminalized armed gangs.

The visit of P. Chidambaram to Punjab and his meetings at Amritsar, Ludhiana and Chandigarh had clearly unfurled the war flag. K. P. S. Gill was finally ready with his battle plan. He just required the order to press the trigger.

Such were the circumstances when I was told to fly in a special plane to Ludhiana with a consignment of Kalashnikov rifles to arm the ‘recruits’ raised by Jasbir and me. Accompanied by three high priests and a posse of armed guards Jasbir waited at a pre-selected rendezvous on May 8th night. I was picked up by a cutout from Model Town area and taken to the den where Jasbir waited for me. The discussions were cordial and the food sumptuous. It was decided that I would transport the weapons to another hideout next night (May 9) for transportation to the ‘camps’. A plan was worked out to arrange induction of 25-armed men inside the Golden Temple and Akal Tahkt and another 25 to the
sarai
(guest house) areas.

In an unusual move, Jasbir walked down to the car with me and whispered in my ear that according to his information a particular officer of Punjab state intelligence branch and an officer of the Intelligence Bureau were in touch with a group of Babbar Khalsa and KCF terrorists and had motivated them to engage the police forces in action. I took a little time to understand the finer nuances of the information. Clash between the security forces and the holed in terrorists could take place at any point of time. The security forces had their fingers on the triggers and the terrorists were a trigger-happy lot. The schizophrenic bunch of killers was made to believe that the bullets of the ‘
adharmis
’ (non believers) would bounce back from the bodies of the followers of the Khalsa Panth. Most of them remained high on opium, marijuana and hard spirit. They did not require provocation to fire and kill.

Jasbir elaborated his point by adding that the agent provocateurs of the state and central intelligence were working at the behest of Buta Singh and were not keen on giving a try to the other approach. I comforted him by mumbling something and said good night.

Around 09.30 on May 9 I was taken to the rendezvous to finalise the modalities of shifting the weapons to the designated ‘camps’. As we worked on strategic mobilisation of the ‘force’ and taking on the terrorists the telephone rang ominously around 11.45 a.m. Savinder Singh picked up the phone and reported with an ashen face that firing had started all over the Golden Temple complex and a Babbar Khalsa terrorist had hit a DIG of police. I was confounded by the information. The Babbar Khalsa group was supposed to be in touch with one of my colleague in the IB and was supposed to oppose the rabid KCF, KLF and BTFK elements. Was there a conspiracy? That’s what Jasbir had earlier suggested.

About eight pairs of eyes, not very friendly ones, turned at me with loaded questions. Two armed guards quietly shifted to my flanks. I had, for a moment, experienced a sudden rush of adrenalin and moved my hand to the pistol hidden below my shirt. Jasbir stood up and directed the guards to leave me alone. He was of the opinion that the weapons should be stacked somewhere in Amritsar for later use and to disperse the ‘camped’ boys.

I rang up my desk boss in Delhi and was told that he was not aware of the facts. The police forces had resorted to firing after S. S. Virk, a deputy inspector general of police with the Central Reserve Police, was hit by terrorist fire somewhere on the western side of the temple complex.

Jasbir and other high priests wanted to leave for Amritsar immediately. I requested them to watch the developments and visit the temple city next day. I was given a safe passage out of Ludhiana by Jasbir’s followers to proceed to Amritsar with the weapons that were meant for the ‘peace corps’ of Rajiv Gandhi. The operation turned out to be big joke and me, the ace of the jokers.

Operation Black Thunder had started in all earnest after S. S. Virk took the vital decision on his own to lead a reconnaissance party to a spot to the western flank of the temple where the terrorists were ostensively constructing new defences above the ‘prasad ghar’ located between the main gate of the temple and the remaining edifices of the
Akal Takht
. Construction of ‘defences’ and induction of weapons had been going on for last few months. But the CRPF commander did not strategically plan the unfortunate incident that had sparked off the war shots and killed the peace process. There was no command from the top (Delhi) to resist the militants from raising defences above the ‘prasad ghar.’ The decision to lead the reconnaissance party was taken by the CRPF DIG. It is believed that the survey could have been conducted by an ‘agent’ of the intelligence department and precise video footage could have been taken before sending out a police force.

However, a competent General as Gill was, he did not let the opportunity go by. He acted with surgical precision and added a glorious chapter to Indian policing. This one man and officer gave a wonderful account of his professional competence, in spite of the fact that the political and administrative ambience around was far from satisfactory. He had helped the politicians to win a vital war for the country that was started by a few power drunk people out of political skulduggery. Gill cannot be blamed to opt for the war process and not wait for peace to triumph. He was a soldier and he was expected to fire to douse fire.

*

My association with Punjab imbroglio continued, in some form or other, till I retired. My relationship with Jasbir and a number of leaders of the Dam Dami Taksal and various terrorist outfits had transcended the limits of professional fences. I had discovered a reasonable, simple and trusting person in Jasbir Singh Rode. He aspired for political importance but was unfit for Akali strand of political somersaults. He is illiterate in a conventional sense. His knowledge of Sikh scriptures is near perfect. His worldview was narrow but he always dreamt to own a newspaper and practice journalism. He had really come to own one, but I was told that lack of business sense and government patronage had the paper run into the red.

This one peace initiative had offered me to know Punjab more thoroughly than I could learn about Bengal. The Jat Sikh community fascinated me and the rich civilisational and religious heritage of the brave frontier people taught me a unique lesson: all magicians do not know the art of playing with fire. Some, therefore, get burned. Indira Gandhi had forgotten her lesson in fire play and she had allowed her maverick son and political fortune hunters like Zail Singh to play with a flaming paraffin ball called Jarnail Singh Rode, crowned as Bhindranwale by Dam Dami Taksal. Rajiv Gandhi too had allowed another Sikh fortune hunter to meddle into the affairs of Punjab. His home minister Buta Singh did more harm to the nation than promoting its security by application and non-application of his contorted mind to the woos of the people of Punjab.

He did not take kindly my thorny presence in Punjab operations. I was summoned and made to stand before him and asked to give a full account of the arms and immunisations supplied to Jasbir Singh and his followers. The catch in his question was very transparent. We had supplied certain licensed weapons and a good number of ‘unauthorised lethal weapons’ from a secret source. I divulged only the figures of the licensed weapons, which were sanctioned by the minister himself and refused to admit that the government at any level had supplied ‘unauthorised’ weapons. He produced a piece of paper that quoted an unconfirmed story that the IB had supplied 69 ‘lethal’ weapons to its operational friends. I spontaneously dismissed the report as a piece of concoction by certain elements opposed to the Union government. He dismissed the meeting rather annoyingly. I knew that my days in the Punjab operations desk were numbered.

My interview with the home minister was followed by two queer incidents. Sushil Muni accompanied by his lady secretary and an unknown Sikh face knocked my door. His proposal was very attractive. He told me, on the alleged authority of the home minister, that I should recommend release of two Sikh terrorists incarcerated in Amritsar Central Jail. I frequented that infamous jail to meet Jasbir Singh and others detained there after Operation Black Thunder. The request of Muni was accompanied by an exhibition of a stack of currency notes carried by his secretary. The trap was very clear. Two terrorists named by Sushil Muni were close to the home minister and he could jolly well call the Director Intelligence Bureau and ask him to do the needful. I flatly refused to oblige him and called upon the last drops of humility to hang a broad smile on my face and escort the revered saint to the Mercedes that waited for him.

The other incident was more serious in nature. The Sikh terrorists had a thousand reasons to harm my family. I did not take any police protection and used total anonymity as the best security shield. The covers that I utilised in meeting some of terrorist leaders and members of Dam Dami Taksal were not foolproof. Once Wairyam Singh Bhuranangal, self-styled Lt. General of BTFK, etained me somewhere near Bhurenangal village for two nights. Kashmir Singh, one of the terrorists appointed high oriests, secured my release. Being in the front line I was aware of the possibility of being present at the wrong side of the barrel. It was a professional risk.

But two instances of attempted overrunning of my elder son by ‘terrorists’ had rattled my bones. The Sikh terrorists did not go about very subtly in targeting their enemies. I was a deemed enemy to many Sikh terrorists. They had the Kalashnikovs to fire on my family and me. What for this charade was? To send a message to me? By whom? The terrorists did not send friendly warning before pulling the triggers. I drew my own conclusion that some friends were getting mighty uncomfortable with me. I immediately arranged to shift to a more secured house at Bapa Nagar and availed of a static armed guard at home. Some personal security officers were provided to my family.

In the meantime I was promoted to next higher rank. I could not aspire to replace Kalyan Rudra, a very competent officer and a walking encyclopaedia on Punjab and Haryana. For the first time I requested a transfer out of Punjab Operations Cell and was finally relieved to join the Pakistan Counterintelligence Unit, with a rider that I would continue to assist in a few sensitive Punjab Operations. That was a fair deal.

 

TWENTY-ONE

FACING THE FIRST LOVE

An infallible method of conciliating a tiger is to allow oneself to be devoured.

Konrad Adenauer.

I did not hate Pakistan and I was not obsessed with the umbilical neighbour, which was pathologically busy in erasing its sub-continental identity and to don on a Saudi Wahabi Islamist pyjama. Some of their political philosophers called themselves as the people of the Indus, to indicate difference from the Hindus, the people of the Ganga-Jamuna basins. This was a contrived discovery of Pakistan, dating back to the pre-historic era of Harappan civilisation and invasion by the so-called Aryans. But our friends in the West refuse to identify if they descended from the
Suras
, the presumed Aryans or the A
suras
, the indigenous people or the people of ‘Ahur mazda’, the fire worshippers; who were from a different strain of the so-called Aryans. In any case our fiends in the Indus did not originate in the sand and oasis of Saudi Arabia. But no one can prevent human minds to invent philosophy. Hitler had his own philosophy, the philosophy of hate. Our friends on the Indus think that by inventing a philosophy of civilisation they can totally base the foundation of their nationality on a religion that visited the subcontinent much later in history.

However, I do not hate the people of Pakistan, who are even now made to believe that religion is the best
arrak
or Soma Rasa intoxicant, which is the toughest crazy glue. They refuse to recognise that we are the inseparable umbilical twins architectured to separate identities by cruel history. Our strong ethnic and cultural bonds are impregnated with the same air, water and soil. We even share common genes, peculiarly common to almost all the sub-continental ethnic and religious groups.

The above is a pragmatic statement of fact based on historical truth. Indians, specially the Hindus, tend to transform even immediate history to mythology. At a spin of coin they replace the idols of their gods by the idols of politicians like Indira and Rajiv and film stars like Amitabh Bacchan and Shah Rukh Khan. They tend to burn their women and worship them as goddesses. Similarly they are adept in demonising the people they do not like.

Most of them have demonised the British Empire to add a mythical texture to the struggle for independence. They deified a few frontline survivors of the independence struggle and made serious attempts to immortalise a particular family. They forgot that the tired and greedy Congress leaders of 1947 as eagerly sought partition, as it was, by the suspicious and bigoted Muslim leadership. The tortuous course of history justified the partition but not the genocide that took place on either side of the border. The partition justified the contention of some Muslims, that there existed a conflict of civilisation. And it annulled the hackneyed slogan of secularism that has often been used by the ruling cliques as an instrument of ‘social apartheid’ that permanently segmented the Muslims from the Hindus. Secularism was taken to mythological proportions by reducing it to the concept of vote bank minorityism. The existing ‘social apartheid’ system in intra-Hindu relationship highlighted by the perverted caste system was again taken to the realm of mythology by Prime Minister V. P. Singh who used the hated tool to protect the hot seat he was catapulted to by an irony of history. Partition had rendered Hindu-Muslim relationship more complex. The pendulum swung from hate to hug, deification and deionisation. That’s what formed the foundation of India’s Pakistan and Pakistan’s India policy. When I was posted to the Pakistan Counter-Intelligence Unit (PCIU) I was, as most Indians are, conditioned to some extent by the historical biases.

However, I never believed in deification and demonisation. I did not consider Pakistan any more as a Muslim-Hindu issue. It had emerged as a geopolitical force having serious strategic bearing on India’s internal and external security concerns. Pakistan was in a state of constant and spontaneous war against India, not as a Muslim country, but as an international Islamist entity. India has best of relationship with numerous Muslim countries. Enmity with Pakistan is not based on clashes between the Hindus and the Muslims. Pakistan too had lapsed into the realm of mythology in believing that Saudi Wahabi mandate was transferred to it from the ruling royal family of Saudi Arabia. They believed that Islam could once again unfurl its flag on the Sankarachariya hilltop in Srinagar and the ramparts of Delhi’s Red Fort. They were driven by a distant dream, and I considered myself a soldier of history, who was deployed to snap that absurd dream.

This feeling did not arise out of my affinity to the Hindutwa establishments. Neither had I ever imagined that I could don on the mantle of a fanatic nationalist. This was a lesson of history that I had learnt at a great cost.

My job was fair and simple: to pilot the Pakistan counterintelligence unit and to understand Pakistan and its Establishment in appropriate geopolitical light. I had stepped into the PCIU with that frame of mind, which was fortified by my experiences of Pakistani proxy war in the North East and Punjab.

It was not another job for me. It was the dearest job I enjoyed most.

*

Indo-Pakistan relations were not at their best in 1988. Pakistan’s deep involvement in Punjab and Kashmir had soured up the diplomatic ambience. The Inter Services Intelligence under General Akhtar Abdul Rehman had its special units infiltrated amongst the Sikh and Kashmiri militant groups. The ISI had already set into motion its policy of encircling India by setting up new operational bases in Nepal, Sri Lanka and Maldives and by strengthening the existing resources and collaborators in Bangladesh. Pakistan was poised for springing nasty surprises on the government of Rajiv Gandhi, who was busy battling ‘scandals’, gathering political clouds and a serious drought that had almost devastated the economy.

The sudden ‘assassination’ of General Zia in a dramatic plane crash on August 17, 1988, had many Pakistani and international fingers pointed at India being one of the prime suspects, the others being Al Zulfiqar, a fledgling ‘terrorist’ outfit run by Murtaza Bhutto, son of Z.A.Bhutto, Khad, the Afghan intelligence organisation , and even the CIA. It was undoubtedly an insider job and perpetrators in all probability had access to VX nerve gas manufactured by super powers like the USA and the USSR.

By the time I was saddled to the PCIU Benazir Bhutto had got the clearance of President Ghulam Ishaq Khan and top Army brass to emerge as an angel of democracy. Her rivals were adequately assisted by the ISI though. Rajiv Gandhi and his ‘Pakistan expert’ former diplomat and Dosco friend Mani Shankar Iyer hoped for opening up a fresh dialogue with the democratically elected prime minister of Pakistan. It was a genuine desire, but it was not tempered with statecraft and deeper insight into the historical paradoxes. Indian and Pakistani politicians often turn to peace overtures when they reach their tether’s end in pursuing diplomatic course of action and low intensity war of attrition and sporadic border shelling. Peace is often used as an offensive weapon by both the countries, though none of the establishment leaders on either side of the border has genuine hunger for peace.

Benazir’s PPP had emerged as the single largest party with 92 seats in a house of 215. The IJI, a party floated at the behest of the ISI and a section of the Establishment, had secured 54 seats. The Armed Forces dithered for an agonising period before it decided to allow a democratically elected government to take over. It was natural for Benazir to embark upon another peace offensive to keep a part of political base happy and Pakistan’s international financiers in good humour. She knew, as well as we in the PCIU knew, that the Pakistani Establishment wasn’t really pining for a love-grid with India.

I am not sure if Rajiv Gandhi was properly briefed about the nitty-gritty of a tortuous peace offensive. The insincerity of his administration and immaturity of his ‘Pakistan expert’ was proved by the following incident.

Back in Delhi the expert operators of the Intelligence Bureau were unfolding an ISI backed major espionage thrust. HumInt, TechInt and surveillance had proved beyond doubt that Brigadier Zaheer ul Islam Abbasi, the Military Attaché of the Pakistan High Commission, was a cover ISI operative and he was personally engaged in running an espionage ring. His personal meetings with a former captain of the Indian Army were recoded by still photography and videography. The rendezvous points used by him were well documented. This particular catch was ready for ‘pick up’.

Just three days after I joined the PCIU I was informed that an operation was planned to neutralise the Pakistani Brigadier at a prominently located rendezvous. I hurried through the fact sheets and pointed out that an eminently located RV should not be used to pick up a senior diplomat. I also discussed with my colleagues that the timing of the pickup was perhaps not correct. A new democratically elected government in Pakistan was likely to be installed in a day or two and the Indian Prime Minister should be allowed the elbowroom to stretch a friendly diplomatic space towards his Pakistani counterpart. I was overruled and was told that the Prime Minister and his close aides were in the picture and his ‘Pakistan expert’ had opined that the operation should be concluded, at any cost, before Benazir was installed. That would allow Rajiv to start with a clean slate. The argument was a faulted one. Benazir was not a dumb fool to judge the developments in Delhi out of the context of Pakistan’s overall relationship with India. She was a probationer prime minister and was in no position to annoy the Army. Brig. Abbasi represented the fundamentalist fringe of Pakistan Army.

But who in the IB could go against the wishes of the bosom friend of the PM? We were made to fall in line.

I was shown a draft handout for Door Darshan and All India Radio, India’s official TV and radio channel, which was to be issued immediately after Abbasi was picked up. I objected to this strategy. Normally in counterintelligence neutralisation operations the media is kept out of the picture. Delhi police briefs them much later, after the suspects are interrogated and the exact ramifications of the damage caused by the network are assessed. The IB is scrupulously kept out of the picture. I was told that the PM’s Pakistan expert friend had ordered this course of action.

My boss was very close to the inner coterie of the PMO/PMH and he had discussed the operation with the top man. Rajiv Gandhi, I was told, was very keen to present the yet to be sworn in Prime Minister of Pakistan with a piquant surprise. I did not have the time to reflect over the professional exigencies that called for immediate conclusion of the operation. I was not sure what diplomatic benefit would accrue out of this. But, I later found out the same night that the Prime Minister badly needed a booster to convince himself that neutralisation of Abbasi would give him an edge over his counterpart in Islamabad. Never before, I believe, the IB was pressured to conclude an important CI operation for giving doubtful political and diplomatic elbowroom to a Prime Minister, whose enthusiasm was not matched by his expertise.

On the fateful November 30, 1988, Brigadier Abbasi was to meet his Indian contact at XX Hotel to pick up certain sensitive military documents around 7 p.m. A trap was laid to capture him in the act of exchanging documents for money. It was a successful trap. Whatever he was, I must say that Abbasi was a naïve intelligence operator. Virtually the number three in the Mission, he was not supposed to run a sensitive intelligence operation by himself and was not required to attend risky RV meetings. Abbasi was a zealot and believed that his excellent performance in Delhi would fire up the rockets to boost him to higher hierarchical orbits.

He walked into the clumsily planned trap and was physically overpowered before he could be bundled into a waiting car. His Pakistani non-diplomat companion too was picked up. The driver of the Mission car escaped at high speed to inform the chancery officials that something had gone wrong.

Brigadier Abbasi had vehemently resisted his detention by the Indian intelligence agents. He and his attendant used hands and feet to clear their way and run out into the open. In the process he received a few blows from my hefty colleagues. Use of minimal force was necessary as the venue was a restaurant room of the hotel and manoeuvring space was limited. To allow Abbasi to run out to the open would have compromised the operation. We were left with no other option but to ‘capture’ the catch there itself.

I had deployed, against advices of the handling officers, a video camera to record the neutralisation effort. Abbasi had tried to break the camera too by hurling a commando kick at the camera operator. He was taken to the usual interrogation centre of Delhi police.

It was unfortunate that one of my colleagues had used unacceptable language and body force against Abbasi even inside the confines of the police post. It definitely militated against diplomatic protocol.

I busied myself with the basic task of informing the ministry of external affairs and requesting them to notify the Pakistani Mission about ‘compromise of two of their staff’ in an act unbecoming of diplomatic and non-diplomatic employees. Having done so, I notified a senior officer of Delhi police to arrange for interrogation and registration of appropriate first information reports in the case.

An interesting twist to the event was given by a TV news bulletin at 7.30 p.m. that announced the arrest of the senior Pakistani diplomat. The handout approved by someone in the PMO was passed on to the media soon after the news of the ‘neutralisation’ was conveyed to the PMO. That created a serious embarrassment. We hadn’t yet finished search and interrogation and we were technically not sure about the identity of the individuals, as they did not carry identity cards. The news broadcast gave leverage to the Pakistani Mission. They immediately lodged protest with the MEA even before I could get in touch with one of the senior officials in MEA’s Pakistan desk. The MEA reacted slowly and gave scope to the Pak Mission to complain about physical torture of their diplomat.

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