War at the Top of the World

WAR AT THE TOP OF THE WORLD. The Struggle for Afghanistan, Kashmir and Tibet. By Eric Margolis. Pp. 250, 1 map, 2000. (Routlege, New York, $ 22).

ISBN: 0415927129

When Rudyard Kipling gave the famous name, ‘The Great Game’ he may not have realised that the game will continue into the next Century and will turn so bloody. The conflict in the Himalaya and Karakoram ranges between three countries today should be of interest to mountaineers and readers of the Himalayan Journal.

The Himalayan watershed of South Asia is an area of intense tension Potential flashpoints could lead to regional conflagrations that test the nuclear threshold. Geopolitical and internal disputes have created a belt of uncertainty from the Karakorams to the Eastern Himalaya which shades off into the Burmese Highlands. This stretch of mountains host some of the most inhospitable terrains in the world, whose challenge and beauty are a mountaineer’s dream. Sadly, because these regions happen to be disputed frontiers, vast areas remain closed.

This area of the Himalaya between India, Pakistan, Afghanistan and China has been the focus of attention in some recent books. One of these is Humphrey Huxley’s Dragon Fire, a fictionalised account of conflict in this belt that steadily builds up to nuclear climax involving China, India and Pakistan. Huxley’ deft handling of geopolitical and military realities makes his account a very credible one. And Dragon Fire does not pretend to be anything other than a plausible work of fiction. In contrast to this is War at the Top of the World by Eric Margolis, which outlines a similar scenario but presents it as an analysis of the real situation based on a study of facts. Yet, in many ways Margolis’ description of his travels and his ifuturistic predictions sounds more fantastic than Huxley’s fiction. If Margolis lacks Huxley sure touch it is surely because of his inadequate grasp of regional geo-politics and perhaps also of even elementary facts.

Eric Margolis’ attempt is primarily intended as a strategic analysis of the on going disputes and their likely trajectory. The book’s claim to authenticity of analysis and credibility rests on his experiences of brief visits to some areas of this Himalayan belt. But a study of this kind, based on personal travels, as the author claims to have done, requires in the first place the capacity for dispassionate analysis, if it is to be credible. Moreover, since this is an area which many have visited, a place where armies camp, much has already written about it. Consequently, any study of it must be based on meticulous observation scrupulous adherence to known and incontrovertable facts. Unfortunately, Margolis seems to have dispensed with both these requirements. The book is deeply flawed by coloured judgment and factual errors. One reads the book as though through a cracked mirror because at the core of this misjudgement is his evident and palpable dislike of India.

It is likely that in his perambulations Margolis had an encounter with the ubiquitous Indian “Babu”, which perhaps soured his disposition. The book is replete with disparaging remarks of all things Indian, a country he describes as “quaint, exotic and a third world derelict”. He delights in characterising Indian politicians as “local warlords, powerful feudal land owners, caste based party bosses and gangsters”. The vibrancy of the Indian democracy is casually written off in a few phrases. The police forces are “undisciplined thugs of little military value”, the temples are “pornographic”, the roads are death traps and Indian airline pilots are “notorious for drink and incompetence”. In fact very little tht is Indian misses his jaundiced and baleful eye. On the other hand, the “Islamic Warrior” is his brother deserving of constant praise “tall, true, fierce, ferocious formidable”. There are stories of “Fadil the Kurd”, “Musa the Warrior” (“I like to fight wherever there are Indians”), “Commander Nadji the Egyptian”. Only Mr K.P. S. Gill finds favourable mention and even that is back handed. Perhaps, he badly frightened the man.

Because Margolis has deliberately failed to understand India, his assessments tend to goawry. The shallowness of his knowledge is evident in his comments on the caste system, where he commits the common mistake of all pseudo- intellectuals of equating class with caste. Margolis should have read research on caste by such authorities as Ashley Montague and Andre Betteille. His account is tendetious in other matters as well. Despite evidence to the contrary, the author continues to portray the Kargil War as an incursion by 800 motivated Mujahadeen. There is no disputing the courage of the Afghan and the Pakhtoon, and their success against the Russian juggernaut. But these redoubtable warriors and their mercenary brethren have failed in Kashmir, a fact grudgingly acknowledged by the author, who attributes it to skilful Indian diplomacy in isolating the Mujahaddin, overwhelming Indian troop presence in the area, Israeli help to India in sealing the borders, and the brutal repression of Kashmiris, among other reasons.

He starts with a cursory visit to Afghanistan after which he turns to Kashmir, particularly the role of Afghanis in this state. His narration of accounts of alleged Indian repression in Kashmir is particularly merciless. He also makes the entire Himalayan region an area of dispute vis-à-vis India. For example, in one sentence he talks of “Chinese Sinkiang and India held Ladakh”. The ‘occupation’ of the latter he compares with the Chinese annexation of Tibet. It is obvious that Margolis has not heard of the famed Ladakh Scouts, sons of the soil, one of the most highly decorated regiments of the Indian Army, willing and successful defenders of Ladakh in all of India’s wars. Can he find a Tibetan army fighting for the Chinese?

Eric Margolis, subtly and not so subtly, draws attention throughout the book to his vast travels and his reportage of the various conflicts that plague the globe. His smug conclusions are based on this experience. But his experience clearly lacks depth, and as one ploughs through the book, one cannot help the feeling that he does not know his geography at all. A major faux pass is in the chapters narrating his visit to the Siachen glacier. He is clearly taken on a merry go round by the Pakistanis and this is evident in his description of his travels through Baltistan with one Capt Aziz.

The first giveaway is his belief that K2 and Godwin Austin are different peaks (enough to put off anyone from the mountain climbing fraternity). More amazingly, in two days, over atrocious roads he seems to cover the greater part of the conflict areas of Baltistan, including Kargil and Siachen. In this dream journey Capt Aziz and Margolis leave Skardu at dawn and cross Gol and Khapalu before lunch. After an afternoon nap, they drive along the Shyok river on an atrocious dirt track till they reach the crest of the Ladakh range from where he is given a glimpse of Kargil. Here the author makes the interesting observation that from Kargil a road leads on to the Nubra valley. Thereafter, the drive takes them over the “Bila fond Pass” (sic) at 15,600 feet, followed by a night halt in “a demented village”. The next day’s drive is again over a terrible dirt track which leads them to the Army Base at Dansam at the `foot of the mighty Siachen Glacier a 50 mile river of ice’. Here of course he meets his boon companion of old days, Col Youssef, a strapping Pathan from Peshawar who reminiscences about Skendberg, Albania (the country of author’s mother).

The next day they drive to the 25 Punjab Regiment base, where he is received by Colonel Musa, who reminds him of the Ottoman Sultan in GK Chesterton’s poem “Lepanto” (“there is laughter like the fountain in that face of all men feared”). Here the author is given a demonstration, which includes firing by 130 mm guns. The guns succeed in destroying an Indian artillery position, as reported by the Forward Observation Posts. Colonel Musa points out a commanding peak, held by them, which the Indian Army has been unsuccessfully trying to capture, in one instance being driven off by an officer who had rappelled down to the top of a peak from a helicopter. The author is then taken to Conway Saddle where he gets a glimpse of Indian positions a kilometre away. At the end of this chapter, the author observes, ‘no hatred I have ever encountered, save that held by Serbs and Greeks for Muslims, equalled the vitriolic detestation between Indians and Pakistanis”.

I have spent some time on these particular chapters as, they are of interest to the average Himalayan traveller. They also containd glaring inaccuracies. Throughout the drive the author makes no mention of encountering any traffic on a road which is the lifeline of a brigade plus of Pakistani troops. The road obviously could not be in the atrocious condition described by the writer. More to the point, Bilafond Pass is not on this road. In fact, Bilafond Pass and Conway Saddle are difficult to reach even for experienced mountaineers. And with the Indian army positions overlooking these passes any attempt to reach there would have resulted in disaster for the visitors.

It is fairly obvious that Capt Aziz took the author some distance along Shyok valley and not to the crest of Ladakh Range from where he claims he got a glimpse of Kargil. Aziz and his superiors must be laughing up their “ferocious” beards, for what he indicated as Kargil to the author was probably an Indian or even a Pakistan village in the Shyok valley. This is further corroborated by the fact that the approach to the Nubra is along the Shyok valley, and not, as Margolis claims, from Kargil from where a good road goes to Leh and thereafter winds up to Khardung la before twisting down to the Shyok valley and Nubra. Dansam is on the Dansam river which is fed by the Kondus, Bilafond, Chumik, Gyong and Chulung glaciers and not the Siachen glacier, which feeds the Nubra on the Indian side.1

It is most likely that the author was taken along the Bilafond glacier, where 25 Punjab Regiment’s posts are located. The peak shown by Colonel Musa is most likely the former ‘Qaid’ Peak, captured in a fine feat of arms by Subedar Major Bana Singh and men of 8 Jammu and Kashmir Light Infantry in 1986. This was the backbone of Pakistani defences. They have never reconciled themselves to its loss and the Pakistani public still remains unaware of this debacle. The helicopter incident actually happened in 1992 in the Chulung Complex, where a brave Pakistani officer tried to reach a commanding height by helicopter and perished in the attempt. That particular battle resulted in the death of a Pakistani Brigadier. There is no Indian artillery gun position under observation by Pakistan, for the simple fact is that in the Siachen, despite horrendous odds, the Indian army holds the heights. Pakistani forces do not have any view of the Siachen glacier, let alone driving jeeps with Margolis there !

The “hatred for Hindus” that Margolis repeatedly talks about is not reciprocated by the Indians. The Indian Army has enrolled a fair number of Muslims who have fought most gallantly on the Siachen and won gallantry awards. The Indian army motivation is based on other factors, hatred of Muslims is definitely not one of them. This is war between two nations and not two communities.

In another passage the author turns the rationale of the Siachen conflict on its head by claiming that Indian mountaineering expeditions triggered Pakistani army activity on Siachen, whereas the entire mountaineering fraternity knows foreign expeditions to the glacier mounted from Pakistan, fourteen in all, combined with cartographic aggression, provoked India into occupying Siachen.

The expeditions, accompanied by Pakistani liason officers, were the grounds on which Pakistan had laid claim to the glacier. Maps began to be published in Europe showing the extended ‘‘Line of Control’’ joining the Karakoram Pass in the east following the Pakistani claim. These maps conceded the entire Siachen glacier to Pakistan, and showed Pakistan and China sharing a long common border to the east of Siachen. When in 1984, Pakistan gave permission to a Japanese expedition to attempt Rimo, a peak located in a side valley east of the Siachen and overlooking Aksai Chin, which would have linked Pakistani controlled Kashmir with China, along the historic trade route that leads to Chinese Turkestan over the Karakoram Pass, the Indian army occupied the Siachen.

It is also worth remembering that any solution to the border dispute in the Himalayan frontiers would ultimately rest on the watershed principle. All Himalayan borders, since the MacMahon Line was drawn, follow the ridge from where all rivers flowing south go to India, and rivers flowing north go to China (Tibet). In Siachen the Saltoro Ridge, which is the dividing line, rivers that flow west and south from the ridge will be with Pakistan and east and south with India. This is a principle the author conveniently ignores.

The latter part of the book is devoted to the Tibetan conflict. The Chinese occupied Tibet for which the author continuously puts the blames on India! In his tirades Sikkim (a state of India), Bhutan and Nepal also feel threatened by Indians. His prejudiced narration of events constantly stresses that it is India which wanted to control Tibet. And after considering various aspects of Chinese history and its leadership he speculates about the possible break up of China, like the Soviet Empire did, and who will grab which areas in such an eventuality; as if nations are available for peanuts. He titles his last chapter “The Fate of Asia”. What he forgets is that the fate of Asia, whichever way it goes, will now be decided by Asians and no amount of sermonising by westerners will have any effect. In fact India has asserted its democratic independence forcefully – all talk of the “foreign hand” is looked down on with disdain.

Eric Margolis has based his book on cursory personal experiences, which seem to only reinforce his stereotyped predetermined prejudices. It is exactly such a skewed view of the region and its conflicts, that the world should be wary of. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.

HARISH KAPADIA