LASHKAR (16 page)
The Defence Minister reddened considerably. He had not expected to be contradicted, especially not from these quarters. But before he could say anything the Army Chief resumed speaking:
‘East Pakistan was a festering wound for Pakistan. It was perennially facing drought or floods. It was a massive and continuous drain on the already fragile and fragmented Pakistani economy. Not only that, it was also a strategic and administrative nightmare for Pakistan to maintain forces in two such widely separated areas. By liberating East Pakistan we released them from these perpetual sorrows. We allowed them to concentrate their forces on one front…’
The External Affairs Minister quite liked the way this was going. ‘But of course,’ he butted in, ‘that is exactly what my predecessors had pointed out. But who was listening?’
‘Not only that, Minister, we have given that damn ISI a perfect and deniable base for terror activities. They now happily use Bangladeshi territory to pump in arms and militants into India without involving their own country.‘ The Home Minister, who belonged to the same political party as the External Affairs Minister, could not resist this opportunity to tell off the Defence Minister, who had been thrust upon them by the politics of a coalition government.
‘That is exactly what they have also started doing in Nepal now. Are you aware that the Habib Bank of Pakistan is supporting 800 madrassas in Nepal? 800! Can you believe it? 800! That is almost as many as we have in India and we’re talking about a country that is smaller than our smallest state. I mean, let’s get real, Nepal has fewer Muslims than we have in any one of our states.’
‘The Habib Bank is just a damn front for their bloody ISI. You know how these filthy Pakis are…Give the buggers an inch and there they are with their terror factories. Those bastards will never stop. The only way is to go in and just…’
‘Well, sir,’ the National Intelligence Chief broke in, ‘you must understand that these madrassas have a key role to play in how Pakistan influences and controls terrorist organizations. Are you aware that the word Taliban literally means a group of madrassa students? Do you know that five of the Taliban’s key leaders are graduates of a single madrassa?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, sir. Five of them are from the Darul Uloom Haqqania, in Akora Khattak…that’s near Peshawar. The Taliban are mostly Pashtun veterans of the Afghan–Soviet War. They have transformed the classical belief that jihad is a defence of Islam into a very radical, militant worldview. They are possibly the most violent face of Islamic fundamentalism and they target Muslims and non-Muslims alike. Many Muslim leaders have opposed their puritanical and intolerant doctrines as deviations from Islam.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ it was the Defence Minister again, ‘but I can believe anything about these Pakis…’
‘Very true, sir. After all, barring Israel, Pakistan is the only country in the world to have been formed on the basis of a religion.’ For once the External Affairs Minister agreed with him. ‘If they did not have India to hate and fight what would they base their national and foreign policies on?’
‘True again, sir,’ the Intelligence Chief couldn’t resist the opportunity to display his intelligence. ‘Do you know that it was at Peshawar that most of the hiring was done by the Pakistani Army, at the behest of the Americans, to supply mujahideen to Afghanistan to fight the Soviets? After all, the Al-Qaida is a creation of the CIA and the ISI. It is because of their short-sightedness and stupidity that the world is suffering these horrific terror attacks.’
‘Bloody Al-Qaida…’ the Defence Minister muttered. ‘What kind of a name is that anyway?’
‘Sir, Al-Qaida, literally means “the database”.’ The Intelligence Chief was on a roll. He seldom got such an august audience under one roof. ‘It was originally the computer file of thousands of mujahideen who were recruited and trained to fight the Russians. The database was divided into two parts, the information file from where the participants in the meetings could pick up information they needed, and the decision file where the decisions made during the previous sessions were recorded. In Arabic, the files were called,”Q eidat il-Maaloomaat” and “Q eidat i-Taaleemaat”. Those two files were kept in one file called “Q eidat ilmu’ti’aat”, which is the exact translation of the English word “database”. But the Arabs commonly used the short word Al-Qaida, which is the Arabic word for “base”. For instance, the military air base of Riyadh, is called “Q eidat riyadh al askariya”. “Q eida” means “a base” and “Al-Qaida” means “the base”. It is an organization with the stated objective of eliminating foreign influence from Muslim countries. Most of its prominent members are adherents of Salafism, a very fundamentalist Sunni sect.’
There was a short pause as the Intelligence Chief stopped speaking. He suddenly realized that though the information may have been new and fascinating for many of those present in the room this was definitely not the time for it.
‘That is very illuminating I am sure, but right now I need to know just what the hell we plan to do.’ The Home Minister looked at the PM as he spoke. The PM acknowledged the cue offered to him with a brief nod.
‘Gentlemen, I am sure all of you will agree that we have soft-footed around for too long. I think it is time we learnt a thing or two from the Israelis. We must let the world know that India is not a perpetual target for any lunatic terrorist to hit upon whenever he feels like it.’
A babble of angry comments erupted. The PM held up his hand and waited till some sort of silence was reached. ‘I want you all to listen carefully…This is what we are going to do…’
When he finished speaking there was a stunned silence in the room. For a good long minute no one spoke, then all at once everyone erupted almost simultaneously; barring the three Service Chiefs with whom the PM had obviously had a prior sit-down.
‘The Americans will have kittens.’
‘Let them. This is not their problem.’
‘Don’t you think we should…?’
‘Why can’t we just bomb all those training camps also?’
‘I am sure that we should be able to…’
‘Gentlemen, please.’ The PM raised his hand again and waited till silence returned to the room. ‘We will not worry about what anyone has to say or do. The right to defend itself is not the sole right or privilege of any single nation. We too have the right and we will exercise it…this time, and from now on, whenever we are compelled to. I have told you what needs to be done. Now you have to translate it into action.’
‘I agree with you totally,’ the Defence Minister rasped importantly. ‘These damn Americans with all their talk of human rights and their moral high ground are absolutely full of shit. They have historically always supported dictators, drug lords and terrorists all over the world.’
‘Come, come, Minister,’ the Foreign Minister tried to butt it. ‘Let us not get…’
‘Let me speak, man. You know what I am saying is true. We all know who gave birth to the terror factories in Afghanistan and pumped in planeloads of arms into the region. We all know who supplied chemical weapons to the Middle-East so that they could be tested at no cost to those bastards themselves. We all know who is responsible for the mess in and around Israel. And Afghanistan.’
‘There I agree with you, sir,’ the Army Chief spoke up. ‘I am sure you know that it was the ISI and the CIA that encouraged opium cultivation in Afghanistan during the 80s. It is an established fact. They wanted the Soviet troops to get hooked on to it. Of course, once the Soviets withdrew, the ISI and the Afghan terror networks simply diverted the opium supply to America and the West. So you are right in…’
‘Of course I am right!’ The Defence Minister was so angry that flecks of spittle flew all around him. It was obvious that no one was going to be able to stop him. ‘The kind of proof we have given those pansies about Pakistan’s involvement in terror activities all over the world…. What have they done about it? They have just gone and sold them more arms and fighter planes. Whereas with one-tenth of that proof they have attacked Afghanistan and Iraq just to further their economic goals.’
‘No proof is enough for the Americans when it comes to Pakistan.’ It was the Army Chief again.
‘Of course it is not! You think they need any proof? You think their CIA does not know what is going on in Pakistan? We all know those shit-eaters are running drugs along with the Pakis, after all if they could smuggle drugs in the body bags of their own soldiers during Vietnam why can’t they do it here? What involvement or attachment do they have with this part of the world, except oil and their own goddamn economic agenda?’ He paused to catch his breath. ‘Do you think they have the balls to do anything to make the Pakis stop? You think they will do anything except cosy up in bed with that rabid General and give him some more tanks and planes? Who the heck are the Americans to tell us what to do?’
The Defence Minister suddenly found an unexpected ally in the External Affairs Minister: ‘You can rest assured that the Americans are going to pay a very heavy price for all this Paki mollycoddling. The Pakis are going to carry out more and more terrorist strikes on the American mainland with their own money and resources.’
‘Absolutely! But then that’s their look-out. If they are so stupid and short-sighted then they deserve what is coming to them.’ Even the normally contrary Home Minister concurred. ‘Why should we worry about what they have to say or wait for them to sort out our problems?’
‘That is exactly what I am saying!’ The Defence Minister was half out of his chair as he shouted. ‘I agree completely with the Prime Minister. There has been enough beating around the bush. This time we must act. It is our problem and we have the means to sort it out…all we need is the bloody balls.’
‘Please leave it to us, sir.’ The Army Chief, who was also the Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee said quietly. ‘We know what needs to be done…and how to do it.’ His quiet, calm tone radiated confidence.
‘Good!’ the PM nodded. ‘For a world that has become so used to taking India for granted and has always mistaken our non-alignment and love for peace as a sign of weakness the Indian response must come as a powerful and assertive warning.’
*
The world had forgotten that this was the same nation that had executed one of the most successful military campaigns in the history of modern warfare – when its Armies had raced in and liberated Bangladesh 34 years ago even as the Pakistani Army stood by, stunned and shocked, as over 95,000 of its soldiers were taken prisoner.
The world had forgotten that this was the same nation that had withstood hundreds of years of occupation and was now an economic tiger raising its head quietly and proudly.
The time had come to remind the world of the strength and resolve that lay behind this huge democracy. And, as fortune would have it, the right man was at the helm of affairs. A scholar of world renown, known for his love for peace and justice, Dr Singh was just the right face to present to the world. No one could ever accuse him of being a rabid warmonger.
In a very short time a number of orders were issued from various offices of the Indian Army, Navy, Air Force and the Home Ministry.
A series of small but lethal cogs began to move into place. A strategically planned, innovative and well-orchestrated drama was about to begin.
Justice was about to be meted out at last.
Srinagar, India.
Allah was clearly watching over the two newly-trained terror mechants that day. Omar and he were not stopped even once though they passed several clusters of cops and Army men as they made their way into Srinagar. They simply used the flow of traffic to guide them to the city and only started asking for directions when they were well inside it.
The walk into town took them an hour, not because of the distance but because they had to switch routes continuously to avoid the checkpoints.
They were also lucky to get on the bus for Jammu almost as soon as they reached the Srinagar bus station. Barring the interminable stops for security checks en route the journey down to Jammu was uneventful.
The wait for the train to Lucknow at Jammu was a lot longer since the next train only left at 2205 hours. ‘We have more than two hours to kill,’ Iqbal said checking the time on the platform clock.
‘I don’t mind. Not as long as I get to sit down.’ Omar heaved a weary sigh as he parked himself on the hard wooden bench at the very edge of the platform. He looked totally played out.
‘Well, I need to change and clean up,’ Iqbal said; the smell from their unwashed bodies was getting to him.
‘Come on, Iqbal.’ Omar protested. ‘You’ve managed without it so far…live with it for a bit more. We can always clean up on the train.’
‘No. I am sure I smell really bad. I know you do. I can smell you long before I see you…besides we will attract too much attention if we continue like this. Come on, the shops are just outside the station… ’ Iqbal pushed Omar to accompany him and they both went to the nearby market and bought themselves new clothes.
‘We can bathe and change in the waiting room,’ Iqbal said as he led the way back into the railway station. ‘Then let’s find something decent to eat. I need to get rid of the vile taste of that broth we have been surviving on.’
Two hours later, the two young men who boarded the train for Lucknow looked nothing like the scruffy jihadis who had left the camp near Hari the previous day.
‘Is it okay if I come to Lucknow with you?’ Omar had asked Iqbal the night before. ‘I don’t think I am up to travelling alone.’
‘Not a problem.’ Iqbal hadn’t really wanted to be alone either. He still dreaded the nightmare memories of the earthquake and the sight of his comrades being killed; terrifying thoughts which clamoured to return whenever he found himself alone. Beneath the tremendous eagerness he felt to be going home, a disturbing medley of thoughts whirled tumultuously through him as the train devoured the miles and crossed the heart of the country. He tried to shrug away the fear.
Abbu and Ammi will understand and forgive me.
Iqbal felt a sharp sense of excitement course through him as he rang the doorbell of the house in Lucknow in which he had grown up. Every memory of his childhood lay entwined with this house.
Where is everyone? They can’t be sleeping at this time.