Nanavatty: Of a different mould
A mould of radical professionalism
Arjun Subramaniam’s Shooting Straight introduces a wider audience to someone the army has long looked up to, General Nanavatty. The general’s conduct set the standard of soldiering and military leadership for successive generations of officers.
Nanavatty caught Arjun’s eye in his avatar as a military historian. Accessing Nanavatty’s trove of notes and papers for the second volume of his commendable narrative on India’s post-independence strategic engagements, Arjun determined to preserve the ‘contents of Nanavatty’s satchels’, that were ‘surreal in their neatness, compactness and honesty.’
For this ‘gift and treasure’, readers should be thankful to both: to Nanavatty for following his passion and to Arjun for bringing these to light. A fighter pilot writing about an army general shows jointness is attaining maturity!
The honing
Nanavatty must rue missing out on the three wars that many contemporaries were fortunate to participate in.
Bagging the Sword of Honour at the military academy, Nanavatty joined his unit just as it completed the long march down from the upper Himalayas as part of the army’s infamous retreat in 1962.
That the aftermath had a formative effect on Nanavatty is clear from an essay he wrote at the behest of the formation on the lessons of that war, which an appendix thoughtfully reproduces in a photocopy of the original long hand.
The capriciousness of fate prevented Nanavatty from joining action in the subsequent two wars on different fronts. To his credit, he applied ‘pull’ for a crack at the opponent but had to defer to the usually unjustly maligned Military Secretary’s branch.
He passed up an offer to serve as Sam Bahadur’s aide-de-camp to be with troops, enabling a baptism by fire in his share of action against hostiles in the North East. The Naga hostiles are well regarded within the army as a gallant opposition. Such encounters with the smoke and smell of cordite have a significant shaping influence on character, universally seen as a prerequisite for military leadership.
A reading of Nanavatty’s years as a middle piece officer shows the preparation that goes into forging a credible military leader. Not only does it take an enlightened officer management policy but also an abiding investment by individuals of self-belief and an aspiration not so much in career progression, as in professional excellence.
Nanavatty’s ‘Delta’ at the platoon weapons course and instructor gradings on the commando and junior command courses landed him in the United States (US) on a nine-month long infantry course. Later, after unit command, he had another three years abroad, liaising at the infantry hub in the United Kingdom. After his year-long staff course was an exposure to mechanized forces as an operations officer at the tactical level, atypical then for an infantry officer.
Professional excellence demands strict self-regulation as a life-long habit. My father (similarly cast in a different mould and figuring in Arjun’s last book) recounts when an instructor at the Staff College, he would chance on Nanavatty similarly engaged in morning runs along forested tracks in Wellington. It takes iron self-discipline to be up that early and to plod along unbidden in a fog.
Fitness was a defining feature of Nanavatty, who at Fort Benning voluntarily joined US army physical tests. It no doubt stood him in good stead later when he had to foot it across Siachen as brigade commander of ‘102’. Though unbeknown to him, his brief stint with the Royal Marines at a winter exercise Norway’s arctic while on liaison duty in Warminster also perhaps proved useful.
An active interest in all things professional, in particular, realistic training, is amply evidenced by Nanavatty’s several initiatives: to keep the unit from being idle through winter snows at Tawang; water-manship during his first command tenure at Ferozepur; while on joint training with the Royal Bhutan Army; invigorating of the Siachen Battle School; as commander of the platoon commanders’ wing of infantry school in Belgaum; and, in selecting a special forces volunteer to head the battle school of Chinar Corps.
As the book proceeds, we see Nanavatty rising through service, without cutting corners. Twice over, when threatened with obscurity on falling short on a quantitative promotion scale, he refuses to ‘represent’ – the term the army uses for officers to challenge the judgment on their performance of their superiors which they disagree with. In the event, he is bailed out by enlightened reporting officers higher up in the food chain.
As an immodest aside, this writer too didn’t take up a suggestion by a well-meaning superior to contest a performance report written by his predecessor on this writer’s command, opting for premature retirement instead! From such instances, it might seem competence is not enough to get to higher rank. The army would do well to prune the proportion of luck needed, since this prompts some - even the professionally sound - to supplement with ji huzoori, the death knell of professionalism.
Nanavatty’s engaging with the depth and breadth of the profession of arms is clear from his firing off professional papers through his service, culminating in a holistic consideration on tackling Pakistan’s proxy war in Kashmir. This was expanded in his post-retirement output at a strategic affairs faculty of a well-received, if much-ignored, book on taming internal conflict.
This passion for observation, implementation and record led to him being tapped by Sundarji to join Subrahmanyam’s team at the Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses, an opportunity he turned down to persist with the mainstream. This penchant to stay the course also surfaced when propositioned to join the army marksmanship team during his time at infantry school.
From the tactical to operational level
At Perspective Plans, he got to further an interest developed while keeping tabs on the British Special Air Service when in Britain. Nanavatty had undertaken a basic free fall course as part of that army’s adventure course, adventure being defined as ‘recreational activities that pose a threat to life and limb.’ As a young officer, his bid for joining the commandos (one made by my father too, indicating a feature of the ‘mould’) had been turned down by a commanding officer having the best interests of the unit at heart.
Such motivation positioned him well to take on an operational assignment with the Para Commandos in Sri Lanka, deploying to Jaffna as a task force commander, initiating, coordinating and overseeing commando operations.
On gaining his first star, he opted for the Siachen brigade. It bears recall that back then the challenges were formidable, be it from the height, the climate, the enemy or seemingly more mundane, disposal of waste. Nanavatty - and commanders of that era such as his predecessor Chandan Nugyal - must be credited with successively handing over a more comfortable billets and a better trained outfit than when they took over, progressively reducing the wastage rate in lives. The principle take away from Nanavatty’s tenure is on the ‘overthink’ that attends threat perceptions. To him, ‘(T)he Siachen area is a limited military significance.’ Whether that holds good in light of the Chinese threat and presence in the Depsang is moot.
Though he volunteered for a two-star command in the Valley which was rather ‘hot’ in those days, he was not initially slated for one. Providence had it that an incumbent commander rushing into an encounter site in true Indian army officer style - arguably avoidable at two-star level - had to be evacuated, creating a vacancy for Nanavatty.
The highlight of the tenure was the smooth evacuation of the heavily built-up area of Old Baramulla of all terrorists, in contrast to the fireworks that went into reclaiming Sopore immediately prior by a neighbouring formation. At that highest rung of tactical level command, he encouraged innovation, such as the interdiction of incoming tanzeems under ‘turned guides’. This writer recalls Nanavatty’s visit to the formation he was on staff of in which Nanavatty voiced his displeasure to a unit that had induced militants back with the promise of amnesty, only to have them stock up their tally of ‘kills’.
For his first three-star command he returned to the North East, to the Spear Corps, but one only partially in active operations, the Naga ceasefire having kicked in just prior to Nanavatty’s taking over. Notable was his bearing ‘down hard on military incompetence, ethical violations and negligence in dealing with human rights violations,’ put in his words as,
I was very particular about human rights aberrations and ethical and moral misconduct in operations in the public glare. Some of my toughest administrative decisions were made during my tenure as GOC 3 Corps. These included the removal from command of a much-decorated brigade commander and commanding officers of three battalions.
This is especially pertinent in light of a Supreme Court mandated probe finding evidence of extra-judicial killings in Manipur from that era in the four figures. This writer recalls his predecessor suggesting the unit’s officers over a lunch during the working visit that a few civilian killings on the side might help restore the credibility of the army, that had just been airlifted into Tripura at the onset of the notorious Armed Forces Special Powers Act.
The final Command assignment
It is his second three-star command, of Northern Command, that we see Nanavatty truly coming into his own, with the book’s preceding narration serving to show how the army (characteristically!?) got the proverbial ‘right man at the right place at the right time.’
Of the most demanding moment during this tenure, Arjun writes: ‘Even today, looking back, Nanavatty often wonders whether, at the very apex level, a deliberate decision ‘not to go to war unless forced to do so by the adversary’ was the best-kept secret of Op PARAKRAM.’ Nanavatty well might.
At the moment of reckoning, when the army looked to crossing the Line of Control (LC) and border in response to the parliament attack, Nanavatty put forth his view that it might be premature to launch an attack in the mountains from the ‘line of march’ as it were, requesting for ‘the minimum essential time for preparation for an offensive by an ad-hoc strike corps.’
This despite Nanavatty preparing his command for just such a moment in the aborted launch of Operation Kabaddi, in which earmarked reserves were to selectively realign the LC to India’s advantage. In the event, the aftermath of 9/11 breathtakingly unfolding in the region, put paid to any designs India might have had in decisively evening the score with the Pakistan Army for its constant needling in Kashmir.
A couple of months down the line saw the nation looking to retribution for the parliament attack. Nanavatty’s signaling of a pause under the circumstance of an aroused polity called for an infinite level of self-confidence and moral courage. Nothing less was expected from Nanavatty at that juncture, and, boy, did he deliver!
Consequently, credit for the war-that-wasn’t must be laid at Nanavatty’s door. If Prime Minister Vajpayee never did intend a war, that amounts to a ‘masterstroke that helped save many lives and enormous financial costs for both sides,’ the credit for this must lie with Nanavatty, his broad shoulders bearing the burden of strategic restraint.
Nanavatty’s swan song was with the deliberate siege of Hil Kaka in Op Sarp Vinash. It succeeded in dispersing the terrorists holed up there, some of whom were eliminated by neighbouring formations alerted for the purpose. This writer footed in Hil Kaka bowl often in the immediate aftermath and can vouch for the den being positively vacated for posterity.
In his final operation Nanavatty cemented his operational approach that led ‘Paddy’, his Chief in Op Parakram, to exasperatedly remark: “Who does he think he is? Monty?”
Adding a dash of conspiracy theory
It cannot be expected of a self-regarding military historian and an Air Vice Marshal to boot, that Arjun is, to throw in a conspiracy theory. But then, this being the most significant episode in Nanavatty’s professional life, a conspiracy theory could spice up the narration, and if the conspiracy theory holds water, be closer to the truth.
From unexplained intelligence fingerprints on the parliament attack case, such as roles of the mysterious ‘Tariq’, Afzal Guru, Davinder Singh, Rajbir Singh et al, the possibility that the parliament attack was a black operation, in all fairness to history, cannot be ruled out.
If this line of thought holds water, Op Parakram can be taken as intended from the very outset as coercive diplomacy, as rightly characterized back then by strategic doyen, Subrahmanyam. Afterall, a black operation can be expected to at best herald strategic coercion, not general war.
Regarding Operation Kabaddi, Nanavatty rightly speculates that ‘a very provocative trigger initiated by Pakistan may have convinced the Vajpayee government to ‘go for it’.’ This trigger can be said to have been furnished almost as if on cue by the legislative assembly attack in Srinagar. Such coincidence with the slated D-Day for Op Kabaddi raises the suspicion that it was to serve as India’s very own ‘Gulf of Tonkin incident’. It intrigues that the D-Day proposed by Northern Command, 1 November, was preponed by army headquarters to 1 October, and the attack was on 1 October.
If not quite Vajpayee, but India’s intelligence deep state – that has long been preyed upon by the right wing - was chafing at Musharraf’s stab-in-the-back at Kargil. Wanting to give it back, it had first to accommodate the moderate predilections in Vajpayee. This explains the stalling of the peace overture to Kashmiri militancy in the Non-Initiation of Combat Operations and, indeed, also the Agra summit, sabotaged in full view by right wing icon, Advani.
Giving itself an alibi of having tried all doors to peace, India then proceeded with Op Kabaddi preparation in the north and strategic messaging in the form of Ex Purna Vijay (Total Victory) in the plains. Stymied by 9/11, India’s deep state nevertheless replayed its hand in the close-on-the-heels parliament attack, prompting Op Parakram.
Is the mould broken?
Nanavatty’s contemporariness lies in his cautioning against the line Jaishankar plugged most recently, that peace lies in Pakistan’s return of ‘stolen’ lands. In his famous seminar address at the cusp of Op Parakram, Nanavatty held forth, “The reclamation of occupied territories… is… achievable but would demand extraordinary synergy of political, diplomatic, economic, intelligence and military effort, and uncharacteristic single-mindedness of purpose.”
The key word is ‘uncharacteristic’, with no evidence in sight that Indian strategic culture has improved any of late on ‘synergy’ and ‘single-mindedness’. The surgical strikes were not quite 1971, nor is Modi, Indira. Adept perception management is not quite all there is to strategy.
Post-abrogation of Kashmiri statehood, he opines that the policy “could suck the oxygen out of Pakistan’s covert war strategy if followed through in letter and spirit with electoral legitimacy, good governance and sustained vigilance… (italics added).” The ‘if’ must be taken not as endorsement but soto-voce, given that ‘electoral legitimacy’ that can only be through a revert to statehood and that ‘terrorism to tourism’ (to quote the Chief) manifestly does not constitute ‘good governance’, even if it is conceded ‘sustained vigilance’ is in place.
On China, his conservative word is in distinguishing between areas to ‘defend’ and areas to ‘police’, and preparing infrastructure accordingly. The departures in practice, stemming from an inflated self-delusion dating to Doklam that India has arrived as a peer competitor of China, have all been too self-evident ever since.
It is uncertain if the current-day regime has the benefit of such sagacious advice in-house. That there has been no dissent, even though the military has been subject to outrages as Agniveer, suggests that the proverbial mould might be in disrepair.
Perhaps as with other institutional leaderships, the military too is pragmatically lilting with the wind. The tragedy is there would be no time for redemption once this regime bites the dust, as it inevitably must. Consequently, the military must adopt Rommel’s attitude to the swirl of Nazification about him: bash on regardless.
[i] Arjun Subramaniam, Shooting Straight: A military biography of Lt Gen. Rostum K. Nanavatty, Gurugram: HarperCollins Publishers India, 2025, P-ISBN 978-93-6569-761-2, pp. 384, Rs. 699.