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India and The Bangladesh Liberation War Chandrashekhar Dasgupta

The document provides an introduction to the book 'India and the Bangladesh Liberation War' by Chandrashekhar Dasgupta. It summarizes the author's experience serving in the Indian embassy in Dhaka after the war and highlights two major events witnessed. It also discusses the exceptional powers given to the embassy and India's role in assisting Bangladesh in the post-war period.

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100% found this document useful (1 vote)
1K views316 pages

India and The Bangladesh Liberation War Chandrashekhar Dasgupta

The document provides an introduction to the book 'India and the Bangladesh Liberation War' by Chandrashekhar Dasgupta. It summarizes the author's experience serving in the Indian embassy in Dhaka after the war and highlights two major events witnessed. It also discusses the exceptional powers given to the embassy and India's role in assisting Bangladesh in the post-war period.

Uploaded by

mercy callo
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Advance praise for the book

‘This book is a tour de force of contemporary history. Dasgupta examines in


one succinct and readable volume how domestic politics in Pakistan, Indian
grand strategy, diplomacy, broader geopolitical shifts and military strategy led
to the birth of Bangladesh. That it was done within fifty years of the events it
describes makes it an even more remarkable achievement. Judicious and
sober in its judgements, this is how history should be written, driven by
evidence, logic and facts. Dasgupta’s own experience and knowledge
illuminate this brilliant book that will be indispensable for scholars, diplomats,
political scientists and anyone interested in the formation of the modern Indian
subcontinent.’ Shivshankar Menon
‘In India and the Bangladesh Liberation War, Chandrashekhar Dasgupta
focuses a sharp eye on India’s role in the era-defining conflict that led to the
creation of Bangladesh. Rich in detail and primary research, this insightful
book weaves a compelling narrative. Highly recommended – not just for
military buffs, but for anyone seeking to understand India’s role on the world
stage in that tumultuous period of history.’ Shashi Tharoor
‘Ambassador Dasgupta is amongst the most scholarly of Indian diplomats with
a passion for archival research. Here is another masterpiece of his in which he
debunks a couple of powerful myths that surround the historic events of 1971.
He unravels India’s “grand strategy” in the political and diplomatic spheres that
guided military actions that year and that remade subcontinental geography.’
Jairam Ramesh
‘There are very few diplomats who research the subjects they write on with
such diligence and analytical skill as Chandrashekhar Dasgupta. This book,
like his earlier book War and Diplomacy in Kashmir 1947–48, is truly eye-
opening, revealing aspects of the subject that were unknown. It not only tells
an untold story but will lead to new interpretations and conclusions that will
change the way we view the history of that period.’ Karan Thapar
‘This is one of the finest political histories of recent times, and confirms
Ambassador Dasgupta’s reputation as a scholar whose meticulous research
and rigorous analysis are unparalleled. It provides us with an insider’s view of
the complex and rapidly evolving geopolitical backdrop against which the
dramatic saga of the birth of a nation took place. Above all, its value lies in
demonstrating the importance of an overall national strategy to deal with the
extraordinary challenge, where objectives were achieved, inspired – as the
author says – by “a common clearly defined overarching national aim”.’
Shyam Saran
‘This is the definitive account of Indian diplomacy during the Bangladesh crisis
of 1971. Using hitherto untapped sources, Chandrasekhar Dasgupta has, with
great lucidity, brought out the complexities of decision-making in those fateful
ten months. The book will alter existing perceptions of the period.’ Swapan
Dasgupta
‘Deeply researched and lucidly and fluently narrated, this unusual book
answers all the remaining questions and conundrums relating to India’s most
successful diplomatic and military achievement: aiding in the Liberation of
Bangladesh in 1971. An invaluable contribution to the extant literature, which
puts an end to numerous conspiracy theories that have hitherto clouded and
distorted the true story of a milestone in South Asian history.’ Mani Shankar
Aiyar
‘Grippingly told, this account gives us more than the story of Bangladesh’s
birth. It tells us how political freedom can be lost in the name of religion and
culture, and spectacularly retrieved in the cause of human dignity.’ Gopal
Gandhi
India and the Bangladesh
Liberation War
India and the Bangladesh
Liberation War

Chandrashekhar Dasgupta
Dedication

In memory of my parents
Sachindra Nath and Renu Das Gupta
The international boundaries shown in the map are representational only and
not to scale.
Table of Contents

Advance praise for the book


Dedication
Introduction
1. Prelude: The Alienation of East Bengal
2. Birth of a Nation
3. Towards a Grand Strategy
4. Mujibnagar
5. Mukti Bahini
6. Military Plans
7. Mobilizing World Opinion
8. A ‘Geopolitical Revolution’
9. The Indo-Soviet Treaty
10. Working the Treaty
11. Indira Gandhi Visits Western Capitals
12. Prelude to War
13. War and Diplomacy
14. Victory
15. Conclusion
Acknowledgements
Annexure 1
Annexure 2
Annexure 3
Annexure 4
Notes
Select Bibliography
Index
Copyright
Introduction

The Bangladesh Liberation War came to a triumphal conclusion on


16 December 1971, when the Pakistani forces in the Eastern
Theatre surrendered unconditionally to the India–Bangladesh Joint
Command. This was the finale of a spectacular feat of arms, one
without parallel in the recent history of South Asia. In January 1972,
India opened an embassy in Dhaka, becoming the first country to
establish diplomatic ties with the People’s Republic of Bangladesh.
The embassy was redesignated as a high commission later in the
year, when Bangladesh became a member of the Commonwealth.
I had the privilege of serving in this mission in the early years of
independent Bangladesh, from March 1972 to mid-1974. Officers
selected for the new embassy were instructed to rush to Dhaka as
soon as possible, leaving their families behind in India. We were
informed that we would be unable to find any time for them.
Bangladesh was just beginning to recover from the devastation it
had suffered during the liberation war. We assisted the Bangladesh
authorities in rehabilitating ports and railways, repairing roads and
bridges, assuring them supplies of basic food items, medicines and
other essential commodities. We also helped them resettle the
millions of refugees who had taken shelter in India during the
Pakistani crackdown in Bangladesh. We worked from morning to
night, seven days a week. It was only after the first six months that
we were allowed to take the afternoon off on Sundays.
These were exciting and eventful times. Within days of my arrival in
Dhaka, I witnessed two historic events. On 12 March 1972, the
Indian army staged a spectacular, impeccably choreographed
farewell parade at the Dhaka stadium. The stadium was packed to
capacity long before the event, and a vast overflow surged outside
the gates. We had to fight our way through the crowd to reach our
seats. Taking the salute at the farewell parade, Bangabandhu Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman paid homage to the valiant officers and jawans of
the Indian army who had sacrificed their lives in the liberation war.
Five days after the farewell parade, Indira Gandhi arrived in Dhaka
to an unforgettable welcome. Tens of thousands had poured into the
capital from the outlying districts to catch a glimpse of the Indian
prime minister and hear her speak at the Suhrawardy Udyan. The
streets of the city were festooned with posters bearing her portrait
alongside effusive expressions of gratitude and admiration.
To enable the embassy to meet the unprecedented challenges it
faced, exceptional powers were delegated to it, dispensing with time-
consuming bureaucratic procedures. It was assumed that formal
financial sanction would follow automatically in all cases of
expenditure approved by Ambassador Subimal Dutt. I recall, for
example, that we received an appeal for assistance from the
Bangladesh government to deal with a major cholera epidemic. A
massive inoculation campaign was urgently required to deal with this
public health emergency, but the proportionately massive
requirements of vaccine were not available in war-devastated
Bangladesh. Under Dutt’s instructions, I rang up the concerned desk
officer in the ministry of external affairs (MEA) and informed him that
the ambassador had asked for the requisite quantity of cholera
vaccine to be airlifted to Dhaka within forty-eight hours. The task
involved coordination between the ministries of external affairs,
health, defence and finance, as well as between these civilian
agencies and the air force. In normal times this would have taken
weeks, if not months, with each organization raising its own issues at
every step. In the event, in April 1972, two Indian Air Force planes
delivered the urgently needed vaccines in Dhaka in thirty-six hours!
This is only a small example of the way the Government of India
functioned during and after the 1971 war. The contrast with the
stately pace at which the government normally moved could not
have been more startling. It was possible to execute tasks so
speedily only because everyone involved was inspired by a
common, clearly defined, overarching national aim.
This period of frenetic activity drew to a close as normalcy was
restored and an increasing number of countries, including the
principal western aid donors, accorded diplomatic recognition to
Bangladesh. This enabled Bangladesh to diversify its sources of
assistance, relieving India in the process of a massive economic
burden that it could not have borne beyond a few months. The
embassy gradually settled down to more normal working hours and,
at long last, our families were allowed to join us in Dhaka.
During these eventful years in Dhaka, I had no detailed knowledge
of the historical background of our association with the Bangladesh
freedom struggle. We received only a cursory briefing before we took
up our posts in Dhaka. This was intended to prepare us for
addressing the urgent tasks in hand, not for historical inquiry. Some
of my colleagues in the Dhaka mission provided fascinating accounts
of our links with the Bangladesh freedom fighters. I learned a great
deal about our 1971 operations from a dear friend and foreign
service colleague, Arundhati (‘Chuku’) Ghose, who had been posted
in Kolkata in our liaison office with the Bangladesh government-in-
exile. Our military attaché, Maj. Gen. (later Lt Gen.) B.N. Sarkar, was
the principal link between the Indian army and the Mukti Bahini
before the war. He was the source of many valuable insights
concerning our military operations. Another guide to these
operations was the naval attaché, Cdr M.N. Samant, who had helped
establish the naval branch of the Mukti Bahini and had led many
daring covert operations. Samant was awarded the Maha Vir Chakra
for conspicuous gallantry in the 1971 war. Quite a few of our
Bangladeshi friends told us about their clandestine contacts with our
authorities before the war. All of these were fascinating anecdotes,
but they did not add up to a complete picture. Many basic questions
remained unanswered. When and why did India decide to involve
itself in the Bangladesh freedom struggle? Did India have a plan to
break up Pakistan? What was the impact of the massive influx of
refugees fleeing from Pakistani oppression? What conclusions did
India draw from the dramatic geopolitical transformation signalled by
Kissinger’s secret trip to China midway through the Bangladesh
liberation struggle? Above all, did India react in a piecemeal manner
to challenges as they arose, or did it have a comprehensive grand
strategy early in the day?
Three decades later, after my retirement from the foreign service, I
sought answers to these questions in the archival records.
The archives throw new light on many perplexing questions. They
show that far from planning to break up Pakistan, Indian
policymakers hoped, right up to 25 March 1971, for a peaceful
transition to democracy in Pakistan and the installation of an Awami
League-led government in Islamabad. New Delhi believed that this
held out the only hope for a breakthrough in Indo-Pakistan relations.
These hopes were belied when President Yahya Khan decided to
crush the aspirations of the eastern province through a murderous
terror campaign, thereby triggering off an armed independence
struggle. Only then did India decide to actively assist the Bangladesh
freedom fighters in order to bring their struggle to an early
conclusion. This decision was based on New Delhi’s concerns about
the spillover effects of an extended guerrilla war across India’s
porous eastern borders; it also reflected deep public sympathy in
India for the people of Bangladesh. The records conclusively
disprove the story popularized by Field Marshal Manekshaw that he
had dissuaded Prime Minister Indira Gandhi in April from sending an
unprepared Indian army into East Pakistan. They reveal that the
prime minister and her principal advisers had already decided
against premature intervention on political and diplomatic grounds,
fearing this would result in loss of international support for the
Bangladesh cause. Most importantly, the archives indicate that as
early as in April–May 1971 India had formulated a comprehensive
outline plan or grand strategy encompassing military, diplomatic and
domestic initiatives, with the aim of bringing the liberation war to a
successful conclusion before the year end. They throw new light on
how these decisions were made and executed amidst dramatic
changes in the international environment. They throw new light on
the close coordination of military and diplomatic moves by India
during the December war, and on how Indian diplomacy thwarted US
and Chinese moves in the UN Security Council to abort the freedom
struggle by imposing on India a premature ceasefire. Finally, they
dispel the widespread belief that India ‘won the war but lost the
peace’ in the Simla summit by giving up its intention of converting
the Line of Control into an international boundary. The records prove
that at every stage in the Simla conference India specifically
reserved a final settlement of the Kashmir issue for future meetings.
India did, indeed, push for an eventual settlement on the basis of the
Line of Control, but Indira Gandhi feared that an immediate
agreement on these lines would expose her to the charge that she
had ‘surrendered’ Pakistan-occupied Kashmir.
This is not a book about the military operations in December 1971;
that task has been undertaken by several distinguished military
historians. Nor is it a global history of the war – the subject of an
illuminating work by the eminent historian Srinath Raghavan. This
book is about India’s grand strategy in 1971. The term ‘grand
strategy’ has been defined in more ways than one. I use it to mean a
comprehensive and coordinated plan for employing all the resources
available to a state – diplomatic, military and economic – to achieve
a defined political objective. This book seeks to explain why India
intervened in the Bangladesh liberation struggle; the diplomatic and
military challenges it faced; and how its defence, foreign and
domestic policies were shaped and integrated so that they played
mutually supporting roles in achieving an overarching political aim.
1. Prelude: The Alienation of East Bengal

Pakistan is a unique country having two wings which are separated by a


distance of more than a thousand miles. These two wings differ in all
matters, excepting two things, namely, that they have a common religion,
barring a section of the people in East Pakistan, and that we achieved our
independence by a common struggle . . . With the exception of these two
things, all other factors, viz., the language, the tradition, the culture, the
costume, the custom, the dietary, the calendar, the standard time,
practically everything is different. There is, in fact, nothing common in the
two wings, particularly in respect to those [things] which are the sine qua
non to form a nation.
– Abul Mansur Ahmed (Awami League), speech in the Pakistan
Constituent Assembly, 16 January 19561
The Pakistan that came into existence in 1947 was a geographical
and political anomaly. The geographical gap of over 1,000 miles
between its western and eastern wings was matched by a
corresponding gulf in their language, culture and socio-economic
conditions. These, in turn, gave rise to divergent political aspirations.
The failure of the Pakistani state to accommodate the aspirations of
the Bengalis of East Bengal and to reconcile the divergent interests
of the political elites of its two wings resulted in the increasing
alienation of East Bengal and the ultimate emergence of an
independent Bangladesh.
The divide between the two wings first manifested itself over the
question of the state language. Pakistan’s central government, with
strong support in the western wing, decreed that Urdu – the lingua
franca of West Pakistan – would be the national language. East
Bengal demanded that Bengali, too, should be recognized as a
national language, alongside Urdu. This was rejected by the central
government as inconsistent with the requirements of national unity.
Central leaders charged that advocates of Bengali were Indian
agents and enemies of Pakistan. The ensuing language movement
in East Bengal pitted the two wings of Pakistan against each other.
There was also a radical difference in the socio-economic structure
of the two wings. Feudal landlords and tribal chieftains dominated
society in West Pakistan. By contrast, East Pakistan was largely free
of landlord domination. In the pre-Independence period, the vast
majority of the big landlords or zamindars in the province were
Hindus. Land reforms were speeded up with the departure of most of
the Hindu landlords to India during and after Partition. The Estate
Acquisition and Tenancy Act passed by the East Bengal legislature
in 1950 set a ceiling of 33 acres on landholdings and protected the
rights of the tiller. The political elite in the eastern wing were drawn
largely from an emerging middle class – lawyers, teachers and
journalists – not landlords and tribal chieftains. The few industrial
entrepreneurs in Pakistan were based almost exclusively in the
provinces of Punjab and Sind in the western wing. They had close
ties to the West Pakistani political elite, which favoured a policy of
promoting economic development by providing incentives and other
support to the emerging entrepreneurial class. By contrast, political
leaders in the eastern wing called for an expanded role for the state
in economic development, including nationalization of the jute trade
and government support for East Bengal’s cottage industries. Jute
exports from the eastern wing were the major source of Pakistan’s
foreign exchange earnings. The central government channelled this
foreign exchange to industries in Sind and Punjab. East Bengal
demanded that the foreign exchange earnings from its jute and tea
exports should be utilized for its own development in order to reduce
the wide gap in per capita income between the two wings. Rejection
of this demand provided grounds for the charge that the western
wing was treating East Pakistan as a colonial possession.
Unlike the western wing, East Bengal had a sizeable, though
shrinking, Hindu minority. This raised the question of the role of
religious minorities in the new state of Pakistan. Though attacks on
the minorities were distressingly common, most political leaders of
the eastern wing advocated a secular, or non-communal, approach.
In 1953, the Awami Muslim League redesignated itself as the Awami
League, reflecting its essentially secular political programme. The
other party with mass support in the province – Fazlul Huq’s Krishak
Sramik Party (Peasants and Workers Party) – similarly pursued a
non-communal agenda. By contrast, there was little support for
secular politics in West Pakistan. Political leaders in West Pakistan
were committed to separate electorates for religious minorities, while
their counterparts in the eastern wing demanded a joint electorate.
The political demands of the two wings differed even in the sphere
of foreign and defence policy. For the central government and the
western wing, Kashmir was the core problem of the country’s foreign
and defence policy – to be resolved, if necessary, through recourse
to arms. In sharp contrast, the Kashmir issue generated no heat in
the eastern wing, where the public favoured a peaceful resolution of
differences and normalization of ties with India. With strong support
from West Pakistan, the central government entered into an alliance
with the United States, with a view to building up its military
capabilities vis-à-vis India. Perceiving no threat from India, political
opinion in the eastern wing favoured a non-aligned foreign policy.
The armed forces and civil services, which soon took on a central
role in Pakistani politics, were led almost exclusively by West
Pakistanis, principally Punjabis and mohajirs. Some measures were,
indeed, taken to remedy the imbalance in the civil services through
the introduction of a quota system. Even so, in the mid-1950s, there
was not a single Bengali officer at the topmost civil service level of
secretary, and only three Bengali officers figured among the forty-
one joint secretaries.2 The absence of Bengali representation was
even more glaring in the armed forces. In 1955, there was only one
Bengali brigadier, one colonel and two lieutenant colonels in the
Pakistani army.3 Field Marshal Ayub Khan ascribed the deficiency to
a ‘lack of qualities of leadership’ among the Bengalis.4
It might have been possible to reconcile these differences, deep as
they were, through the give and take of a political democracy, and by
the devolution of powers from the central government to the
provinces. Pakistan’s failure to evolve such a system foreclosed the
possibility of a mutually acceptable solution. This rejection of a
democratic option by the West Pakistani political, military and civil
service leadership led to mounting discontent, protests and mass
movements in the eastern wing, to which the central authorities
responded with brute repression. The central theme in the history of
East Pakistan from 1947 to 1970 is its progressive alienation from
West Pakistan.

Early years: The language movement and the demand


for autonomy
The alienation of the Bengalis began within months of the birth of
Pakistan, and in the lifetime of its founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah. In
the opening session of the Pakistan Constituent Assembly in
February 1948, a Congress party member from East Bengal,
Dhirendra Nath Dutta, proposed that Bengali, along with Urdu,
should be recognized as a national language of Pakistan. Rejecting
the proposal outright, Prime Minister Liaquat Ali Khan alleged that it
was inspired by the intention to divide the Muslims of Pakistan.
Dutta’s proposal was, however, widely acclaimed in East Bengal,
even within the ruling Muslim League. The student wing of the party,
the Chhatra League, formed an all-party Rashtrabhasa Sangram
Parishad (National Language Struggle Committee) to press the
demand for Bengali as a national language.
Disturbed by the rising swell of public opinion, Jinnah decided to
pay his one and only visit to East Bengal after the founding of
Pakistan. Not one to mince his words, he delivered a tough message
in a public address in Dhaka on 21 March 1948, alleging that the
demand for making Bengali a state language was inspired by
communists and foreign agents who wanted to destroy Pakistan and
reunite its eastern wing with India. A heated exchange broke out
when he met later with members of the student-led State Language
Working Committee. Among the members of the committee were
two individuals who were destined to play a central role in the events
of 1971 – Tajuddin Ahmed and Syed Nazrul Islam. 5
Protests from students and other political groups continued to
gather strength. When the government re-emphasized its national
language policy in January 1952, massive student-led protests broke
out in Dhaka. On 21 February that year, police opened fire on the
protesters, killing five. This brutal act converted five unknown
youngsters into immortal martyrs for the Bengali cause. Tributes are
paid to them on 21 February every year at a solemn public ceremony
at the Martyrs’ Memorial in Dhaka. The significance of the language
movement in the history of the eastern province can hardly be
overestimated. In the words of the Bangladeshi political scientist
Talukder Maniruzzaman, ‘[The] state language movement
secularized the political atmosphere of East Bengal. The success of
the movement showed that the politically relevant section of
Bengalis, and particularly students, could no longer be diverted from
substantive political issues through slogans of Islam, anti-Indianism
and anti-Hinduism.’6
The language movement gave a great boost to the demand for
autonomy in East Pakistan. Prominent Bengali Muslims pointed out
the Lahore resolution adopted by the Muslim League in 1940 had
called for constitution of ‘independent states’ in the Muslim-majority
areas in the North, Western and Eastern zones of the subcontinent.
Ignoring the position of the central leadership, in 1950 the East
Bengal Muslim League Working Committee on the Constitution
called for ‘maximum autonomy’ for the eastern wing. The
government’s rejection of the demand for recognition of Bengali as a
state language and the brutal suppression of protests brought the
autonomy question to the forefront.
Reflecting the mounting discontent with the central leadership, a
major section of the ruling party in the eastern wing broke away in
1949 to form the East Pakistan Awami [People’s] Muslim League. In
1953, the new party dropped the word ‘Muslim’ from its name,
restyling itself as the Awami League and signalling its secular
approach in politics.
In 1953, the main opposition parties in the eastern wing – the
Awami League, the Krishak Sramik Party of Fazlul Huq and the
Nizam-e-Islam – came together to form the United Front. The
common twenty-one-point programme of the United Front included
recognition of Bengali as a national language, full autonomy for East
Bengal, the raising of an East Bengal armed militia, shifting of the
naval headquarters from Karachi to Chittagong, release of all
prisoners detained without trial, open trials of persons accused of
treason, nationalization of the jute trade, subsidies for cottage
industries, and labour rights.
The United Front swept the polls in the first election to the
provincial assembly, held in 1954. It won 223 of the 237 Muslim
seats, routing the Muslim League, which won only nine seats. In
April, a United Front government took office in East Bengal under the
veteran leader Fazlul Huq.

Interregnum (1951–57)
Meanwhile, a major transformation had occurred in the political
structure at the Centre. Jinnah’s Muslim League lacked a grassroots
organization, drawing all its strength from its charismatic leader. It
suffered a severe blow when Jinnah died in September 1948, barely
a year after the birth of Pakistan. His principal lieutenant, Liaquat Ali
Khan, who took over the reins of power, was assassinated in 1951.
After these two stalwarts of the Pakistani movement had passed
from the scene, the ruling Muslim League was left rudderless. Power
passed progressively from the hands of political leaders to the civil-
military bureaucracy. A former civil servant, Ghulam Muhammad,
took over as governor general in 1951, with the backing of the army.
The rise of the civil-military bureaucracy was closely linked to a
shift in Pakistan’s defence and foreign policy. Led by Army
Commander-in-Chief Ayub Khan, senior generals and civil servants
sought a US alliance, ignoring public opinion in East Bengal as well
as widespread misgivings in West Pakistan among supporters of the
Palestine cause. Contemptuous of politicians and public opinion,
Ayub assured the US embassy that the army would ‘take no
nonsense from the politicians’, nor allow the public to ‘ruin the
country’.7
In April 1953, Pakistan experienced its first ‘constitutional coup’.
With the active connivance of General Ayub Khan and senior civil
servants, the governor general dismissed Prime Minister
Nazimuddin, replacing him with a political lightweight, Mohammed Ali
Bogra.8 For the next five years, the country was ruled by a governor
general supported by the army and the civil service. Domestic and
foreign policy was formulated by the governor general, acting in
tandem with the army and civil bureaucracy. Governments were
appointed or dismissed by the governor general, depending on their
willingness to follow his policies.
In October 1954, Governor General Ghulam Muhammad dismissed
the Constituent Assembly, which had the temerity to call for certain
legal restraints on his powers. A new ‘cabinet of talents’ was
installed, in which Iskandar Mirza occupied the post of interior
minister while the army chief, General Ayub Khan, doubled as
defence minister. Over the next four years, supreme authority was to
pass successively from Ghulam Muhammad to Iskandar Mirza and,
finally, to Ayub Khan. In October 1955, with the support of the army,
Mirza seized power from the ailing Ghulam Muhammad. The façade
of civilian rule was finally discarded in 1958, when Ayub compelled
Mirza to resign and go into permanent exile in England.
The first target of the military-civil service clique which assumed
power in 1953 was the democratically elected United Front
government in East Bengal. The twenty-one-point programme, Chief
Minister Fazlul Huq’s friendly sentiments towards India and the
United Front’s espousal of a non-aligned foreign policy were
anathema to the central government. The East Bengal chief minister
was charged with treason, dismissed from office, and placed under
house arrest. The democratically elected government of East Bengal
had a brief life of two months. Governor’s rule was imposed on the
province, bringing it under the direct control of the Centre.
For the Bengalis, the transfer of power to the hands of a military-
civil service clique had a twofold implication. Since they were
basically unrepresented at the highest echelons of the armed forces
and civil services, the Bengalis were effectively marginalized in the
formulation of state policies. Second, the armed forces and the civil
services were in the main hostile to Bengali aspirations, partly
because of their provincial origins but mainly because Bengali
demands for provincial autonomy, normalization of relations with
India and a non-aligned foreign policy were inimical to the
institutional interests of the military. The military and civil service
leaders favoured a centralized state and were strongly opposed to
the demand for ‘full regional autonomy’. However, Bengali politicians
were not excluded from high office if they were prepared to toe the
line. In the words of the historian Ayesha Jalal, the ‘only acceptable
Bengali in office in Karachi was a captive Bengali’.9 Despite this
severe handicap, ministerial office and membership of the legislature
made it possible for Bengali politicians to squeeze occasional
concessions from the ruling clique.
The career of the Awami League leader Huseyn Shaheed
Suhrawardy provides the best illustration of the limitations of and
possibilities for a Bengali politician in the central government.
Suhrawardy was dedicated equally to promoting the rights of the
people of East Bengal and to preserving the unity of Pakistan.
Appointed law minister in the central cabinet in 1953, he made a
bold effort to frame a set of compromise proposals that could serve
as the basis of a constitution. In order to allay fears of Bengali
numerical domination, Suhrawardy conceded the Punjabi demand
for consolidation of the West Pakistan provinces into a single unit
(‘One Unit’), with parity in parliamentary seats for West and East
Pakistan. In exchange, the parity principle would apply also to
representation in the civil and military services, in order to rectify the
imbalance between the two wings. East Pakistan would get ‘full
autonomy’, a joint electorate, and recognition of Bengali as a state
language alongside Urdu. The proposals were summarily rejected by
Governor General Iskandar Mirza. Suhrawardy was obliged to resign
from his post, and the Awami League joined the ranks of the
Opposition.10
The constitution that was finally adopted in 1956 offered a single
concession to the eastern wing. Bengali was accepted as a national
language. This was due in no small measure to the persistent
advocacy by Suhrawardy and the Bengali prime minister,
Mohammed Ali Bogra. The constitution, however, ignored the
demand for ‘full autonomy’, renamed East Bengal as East Pakistan,
despite strong protests from the province, and conceded parity in
parliamentary seats to West Pakistan, notwithstanding East
Pakistan’s larger population. The Awami League walked out from
parliament in protest before the constitution was adopted. A few
months later, however, in this game of political musical chairs,
Suhrawardy was sworn in as prime minister in a coalition
government, after he had accepted three conditions laid down by
President Mirza. These reflected the foreign and defence policy
priorities of the military-civil service clique; adherence to a pro-
western foreign policy; non-interference in military matters; and
keeping under control Maulana Bhashani, the leader of the left wing
of the Awami League and a strong advocate of an independent, non-
aligned policy.11
Suhrawardy had little choice but to work within the system. He
became an ardent advocate of ‘One Unit’ and Pakistan’s pro-west
foreign policy. His defence of Pakistan’s military pacts led to a split in
the Awami League. Its founder president, Maulana Bhashani,
resigned from the party and subsequently formed the National
Awami Party. Yet, working within the system, Suhrawardy and his
minister for commerce and industry, Abul Mansur Ahmed, were able
to achieve a modicum of success in advancing the economic
interests of East Pakistan. Industrial development was transferred to
the list of provincial subjects, enabling the East Pakistan government
to take its own initiatives in this field. The powerful Import–Export
Controller opened an office in Chittagong to facilitate issue of import
licences to provincial businessmen. Issue of licences to newcomers
in the commercial field was made easier. A trade agreement was
concluded with India. Steps were taken to ensure for East Pakistan a
fairer allocation of foreign aid received from the
United States.
These modest measures to redress the economic imbalance
between the two wings proved to be the undoing of the Suhrawardy
ministry. They drew strong protest from vested business interests in
the western wing. Some of Suhrawardy’s allies withdrew their
support and the governor general demanded Suhrawardy’s
resignation. The Awami League–led coalition had lasted barely a
year.
A new cabinet was appointed, but the days of the recently adopted
constitution were now numbered. It suffered from a fatal flaw: it
required periodic elections, the uncertainties of which were
unappealing to the governor general. Moreover, the concept of
division of powers between the Centre and the provinces was
suspect in the eyes of the commander-in-chief, General Ayub Khan.
‘The constitution, by distributing power between the President, the
Prime Minister and his Cabinet, and the provinces, destroyed the
focal point of power and left no one in a position of control,’ he was
to write later.12 President Mirza, on his part, was apprehensive about
the outcome of the general elections required under the constitution.
With the army chief and the president on the same page, the
constitution was doomed. On 30 September 1958, President
Iskandar Mirza imposed martial law, abrogating the constitution,
dismissing the central and provincial governments, dissolving the
central and provincial assemblies and banning all political parties.
Mirza failed to recognize in good time that by handing over power
to the army, he had made himself superfluous. The army was no
longer restricted to a behind-the-scenes role. The generals forced
Mirza to resign on 27 October and sent him into permanent exile in
London. Pakistan’s transition to military rule is often ascribed to the
failure of democracy in the country. In reality, the army seized power
in order to pre-empt the emergence of democracy in Pakistan.

The Ayub Decade (1958–68) and the Six-Point Demand


General (later Field Marshal) Mohammad Ayub Khan did not come
unprepared to shoulder his new responsibilities. He was convinced
that in politics, as in the military, there should be a single ‘focus of
power’. As early as in 1954, the commander-in-chief had set down
his political ideas with military clarity in a ‘short appreciation of
present and future problems of Pakistan’. In his opinion, the
Pakistani people could easily be led astray by communists and
unscrupulous politicians. ‘Unfettered democracy’ was, therefore, a
danger to be avoided. Pakistan needed a ‘controlled form of
democracy’ in which the president, as Head of State, would have
powers to dismiss the cabinet. Provincial governors, appointed by
the president and answerable to him, should have similar powers in
their respective jurisdictions. The president should have ‘over-riding
powers to assume control should things go wrong in the provinces or
the centre’. Ayub deplored the introduction of universal franchise, but
was resigned to the fact that it was too late to reverse the position.
His answer was to introduce checks to prevent ‘irresponsible’
behaviour on the part of the electorate. This could be achieved
through a system of indirect elections, in which universal franchise
would be restricted to the election of local electoral colleges, which
would then elect members of the provincial and central assemblies,
as well as the president. Ayub had an unflattering opinion about the
Bengalis. Not only were they lacking in soldierly ‘leadership qualities’
but they also had ‘all the inhibitions of down-trodden races and have
not yet found it possible to adjust psychologically to the requirements
of the new-born freedom’. They suffered from ‘complexes,
exclusiveness, suspicion and a sort of defensive aggressiveness’.13
Ayub lost no time in putting his plan into action. Large numbers of
the detested class of politicians were imprisoned or debarred from
future political activity on charges of corruption or treason. At the
same time, energetic measures were instituted to speed up
administrative procedures and bring to account corrupt politicians
and civil servants. Development activity was speeded up, and the
Ayub years witnessed impressive GDP growth rates in both wings of
Pakistan. Within weeks of proclamation of martial law in the country,
the army returned to the barracks, leaving the civil services to
resume their normal role.
On the constitutional front, Ayub took the first step towards
‘controlled’ democracy by issuing the Basic Democracies Order in
October 1959, providing for the election of 80,000 Basic Democrats
– 40,000 from each wing of Pakistan. In February 1960, the newly
elected college of 80,000 Basic Democrats lived up to Ayub’s
expectations by expressing their confidence in his leadership by a
majority vote of 95.6 per cent – an impressive achievement even for
a despotic regime. On this basis, Ayub – who had meanwhile
elevated himself to the rank of field marshal – claimed to be the first
‘elected’ president of Pakistan.
In March 1962, a new constitution was introduced. This provided
for a president empowered to act as the single ‘focal point’ of power.
Provision was made for a national assembly as well as for provincial
assemblies for each of the two wings of the country. Rejecting the
Bengali demand for representation in proportion to population,
Ayub’s constitution provided for parity between the two wings in the
National Assembly. Legislation enacted by the National Assembly
could pass into law only if it received the president’s approval. The
president was empowered to appoint and dismiss central ministers
and the two provincial governors without reference to the National
Assembly. The provincial governors had similar powers to appoint
and dismiss cabinets in their respective jurisdictions, without
reference to the provincial assemblies. They were answerable to the
president alone and held office at his pleasure. Ayub detested
political parties, and his constitution initially had no provision for
them. However, legislation was later enacted to permit their
functioning, partly because of public pressure and partly because it
dawned on Ayub that parties were not totally devoid of merit – they
could be used to ‘organize members on the basis of party rule and
discipline’ and to ‘explain government policies to the people’. 14 He
saw no role for political parties in the decision-making process.
Ayub’s announcement was greeted with outraged protests from
politicians, intellectuals and the general public in both wings.
Demands were raised for abrogation of the new constitution and
restoration of fundamental rights. In Dhaka, university students went
on strike, burnt copies of the constitution and demanded the release
of Suhrawardy and other political leaders who had been incarcerated
on grounds of national security. The National Democratic Front
launched by Suhrawardy brought together political parties from both
wings on a common platform for democratic rights. ‘The country
started behaving like a wild horse that had been captured but not yet
tamed,’ Ayub complained in his memoirs. ‘Every time you try to
stroke it affectionately or feed it, it bites you and kicks you.’15
In the presidential elections held in 1964, Ayub defeated his rival,
Fatima Jinnah, sister of the revered founding father of Pakistan. The
outcome was a foregone conclusion, given the dependence of the
Basic Democrats on official patronage.
The centralization of power in the hands of the president, Field
Marshal Ayub Khan, deprived the Bengalis of even the modest
degree of political influence they were able to exercise earlier
through directly elected legislators. Through their representatives in
the legislature, the Bengalis had been able to exercise a modicum of
influence in national affairs, even though the power balance was
heavily tilted against the eastern wing. By giving himself a virtual
monopoly of state power and by reducing the role of the legislature
to insignificance, Ayub deprived the Bengalis of the only toehold they
had in the policymaking process and unwittingly contributed to a
sharpening of regional Bengali demands. In the words of the political
scientist Rounaq Jahan, ‘. . . political movements in East Pakistan
changed from competitive participation in the national system to
radical provincial autonomy movements’.16
Furthermore, by virtually extinguishing hopes of redressal of
Bengali grievances through the political process, the martial law
regime created ripe conditions for clandestine revolutionary
activities. In 1961, a group of student leaders formed a secret
organization, the Swadhin Bangla Biplobi Parishad (Revolutionary
Council for Independent Bengal). Separately, a few Bengali military
and civilian officials set up an outfit called Bengal Liberation Force
under Lt Cmdr Moazzem Hossain. The patron of these secret cells
was the rising star of the Awami League, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.17
A follower of Suhrawardy since his student days in pre-
Independence India, Sheikh Mujib was deeply involved in the
language movement in the early years of Pakistan. He became the
general secretary of the East Bengal Awami League in 1953, at the
age of thirty-three. A charismatic orator, he soon emerged as
Suhrawardy’s right-hand man and political successor.
After the imposition of the martial law regime, Mujib would follow a
dual strategy in his struggle for the rights of East Bengal. He called
with increasing insistence for full autonomy for East Bengal in his
public speeches, while at the same time taking the tentative first
steps in planning for the contingency of being prevented from
achieving his goal through constitutional means. Suhrawardy sensed
the change in the ranks of his followers. Shortly before his death in
1963, he wrote: ‘[Mujibur Rahman] is prepared to accept the
objective of democracy for Pakistan as the sole issue . . . But he has
doubts that national unity and national integration will solve the
problems of East Pakistan.’ Looking at the future, he reflected that
‘one contingency which we were probably approaching was the
mass upheaval in East Pakistan against West Pakistan’.18

The 1965 War


The 1965 war between Pakistan and India was the turning point in
Ayub’s political fortunes. From a narrowly military viewpoint, the war
ended in a stalemate, but its political and economic consequences
undermined the Ayub regime. A UN Security Council resolution
finally brought hostilities to an end. Peace – and the ceasefire line –
were restored in 1966 at a summit conference in Tashkent, where
the Soviet premier, Aleksei Nikolayevich Kosygin, played the role of
conciliator between Ayub and Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri of
India.
These events aroused powerful but contrasting emotions in the two
wings of Pakistan. In the western wing, the war to seize Kashmir was
hugely popular and its termination was condemned as a ‘sell-out’.
Fed on incessant official propaganda, public opinion expected the
war to end in a glorious victory in Kashmir. Acceptance of the UN
ceasefire resolution and the Tashkent agreement were seen as acts
of betrayal by the government. The ambitious and unscrupulous
foreign minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who was largely responsible for
persuading Ayub to embark on the misadventure, now chose to
distance himself from the president by joining the critics of the
Tashkent accord. Seizing the political opportunity, Bhutto founded
the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) in November 1967, and launched
a popular campaign against Ayub with the slogan of ‘democracy, an
independent foreign policy and a socialist pattern of economy’.
Public reactions to the war in East Pakistan were very different,
though they also led to mounting opposition to the Ayub regime. The
war brought into sharp focus the fact that the Pakistani military
doctrine had no credible provision for the defence of East Pakistan.
Only a single army division was located in a province that accounted
for the major share of the country’s population. The war exposed the
hollowness of the doctrine that the defence of the eastern wing lay in
the west – that the Pakistani army had the capability of marching on
New Delhi to enforce an Indian withdrawal from the eastern wing.
The fact that India showed no intention of attacking East Pakistan
offered little consolation to the Bengalis, who had long demanded
that they should have the capacity to defend their province.
The Bengalis did not share the West Pakistani obsession with
Kashmir. As the political scientist Rounaq Jahan points out, they ‘ . . .
resented the fact that they were exposed to the danger of Indian
occupation for the sake of Kashmir’. Thus the 1965 war precipitated
an intensified and more radical demand for full regional autonomy in
East Pakistan. ‘The [1965] war may truly be called a watershed in
East Pakistan’s relationship with the centre,’ Jahan observes. 19

The Six-Point Demand


Capturing the popular mood, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, now the
Awami League president, proclaimed the historic Six-Point Demand
in 1966. This called for restricting the powers of the central
government only to defence and foreign affairs, all other powers
being vested in the regional governments. Powers of taxation would
vest exclusively in the regional governments; the central government
would have no right to raise taxes but would receive a share of the
taxes raised by the regions. East Pakistan would have its own fiscal
and monetary policy. Notwithstanding the role of the Centre in
foreign affairs, the regional governments would have powers to
conduct trade relations, enter into commercial agreements and
establish trade offices in foreign countries. East Pakistan would have
its own militia or paramilitary force. Mujib later added another
demand to these six points: that representation in parliament should
be proportional to the population of each wing.
The Six-Point programme was more radical than previous Bengali
demands for ‘full regional autonomy’. East Pakistan had previously
called for autonomy within a loose federation; in contrast, the Six-
Point programme verged on a demand for a confederal state. Mujib
hoped to secure acceptance of the Six-Point programme by political
means, avoiding the horrific sacrifices that are an inescapable
feature of an armed struggle. However, as Suhrawardy had
surmised, he doubted whether the repressive military regime, with its
West Pakistani power base, would ever accept the Bengali
demands. Sheikh Mujib’s followers included champions of
constitutional reform as well as a growing number of youthful
advocates of armed action. The Six Points catered to both sections.
In 1965, Mujib confided to the Indian deputy high commissioner in
Dhaka, Asoke Ray, that his ultimate goal was independence for East
Pakistan. Shortly after launching the Six-Point movement in 1966,
Mujib informed Ray that he visualized the Six Points as a bridge to
independence.20
The Six-Point movement aroused tremendous enthusiasm
throughout the eastern wing. Students once again took the lead in
mobilizing public support and they were soon joined by industrial
workers in the major cities. Once again, the central role of language
and culture in forging a new sense of national identity was on
display. The Awami League’s student wing, the East Pakistan
Student League, led a drive to replace all English and Urdu
signboards with Bengali versions, achieving almost total success in a
matter of days. ‘A West Pakistani feels like a foreigner in Dacca,’
Ayub complained bitterly in his diary.21
The Six-Point programme was anathema to Ayub. It directly
contradicted his conviction that Pakistan could survive only as a
strongly centralized state under the guardianship of the army. Ayub’s
response to the Six-Point programme was to extend the state of
emergency declared after the 1965 war, imprison the top Awami
League leaders and shut down Ittefaq, the major pro-Awami League
newspaper.

The Agartala Conspiracy Case


In December 1967, a number of Bengali politicians, civil servants
and military personnel were imprisoned on charges of conspiring
with India to secede from Pakistan. Sheikh Mujib was soon added to
the list of alleged conspirators, in what came to be known as the
Agartala Conspiracy Case. Though many of the charges were
fabricated, some contained more than a grain of truth. One of the
principal accused, Captain Shawkat Ali, revealed in 2010 in the
Bangladesh Parliament (he was at the time the deputy speaker) that
‘. . . as a matter of fact, several military officers and civil servants
were involved in the case as we wanted to liberate the country from
Pakistan through an armed revolution under the leadership of
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’. Shawkat Ali confirmed that
a navy steward, Mujibur Rahman (not to be confused with Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman) and an educationist, Mohammad Ali Reza, went to
Agartala to seek Indian assistance.22 They did not, however,
succeed in securing an Indian commitment.
The central government had a long record of imprisoning Bengali
political leaders on trumped-up charges of sedition and other
offences. Hence, public opinion in the eastern wing reacted with
disbelief and outrage to the Agartala Conspiracy charges. But this
case against Mujib had the unexpected result of investing him with
the halo of a hero. Massive and unabated protests, demonstrations,
strikes and public protests brought about a virtual collapse of
administration in the eastern wing, finally forcing the government to
drop the conspiracy case and release Mujib and his fellow prisoners.
Mujib’s popularity rose to even greater heights. He was hailed as
the Bangabandhu – the champion of the Bengali cause. In
November 1969, the Bangabandhu declared that ‘East Pakistan’
would henceforth be known as Bangladesh.23

End of the Ayub regime


By March 1969, with mounting disturbances in both wings of
Pakistan, it became evident that the Ayub regime could not be
further sustained. The 1962 constitution provided that in the event of
the president’s resignation he would be succeeded by the speaker of
the National Assembly. In this case, the speaker, Abdul Jabbar
Khan, happened to be a Bengali. The unthinkable prospect of
placing a Bengali civilian at the centre of power was averted by
abrogating the constitution and declaring martial law. On 24 March,
Ayub announced his resignation and handed over power to the army
chief, General Agha Mohammad Yahya Khan, who assumed office
as president and chief martial law administrator. In his farewell
address to the nation, Ayub declared: ‘I have always told you that the
secret of the continued existence of Pakistan is in a strong centre . . .
But now it is being proposed that the country be divided into two
parts, the centre be made weak and helpless, the defence forces be
paralysed completely and West Pakistan’s political position be
ended. I cannot preside over the destruction of my country.’24 This
parting shot was aimed at the Awami League’s Six-Point Demand,
which was diametrically opposite to his basic conviction that
Pakistan could survive only as a highly centralized state, with an
army that had unquestioned authority to decide its budgetary
allocation, and a political system dominated by West Pakistan, the
army’s recruitment ground.
In a cable to the US State Department in April, the American
Ambassador to Pakistan, Benjamin Oehlert, Jr, explained that ‘[the]
major objectives [of imposition of martial law] probably were to
maintain intact [a] strong government, to protect [the] existing power
structure in West Pakistan and to prevent East Pakistan from
obtaining national political power proportionate to [its] population’.25

Fragile unity
By 1969, the fragility of the Pakistani state was apparent to close
observers. In February, the director of intelligence and research in
the US State Department prepared an analysis entitled ‘Pakistan on
the Brink’. It concluded that ‘in East Pakistan opposition to Ayub has
taken on strong overtones of anti-West Pakistani sentiment to the
point that secession can no longer be ruled out as a possible
consequence of political convulsion’.26
India’s external intelligence agency, the Research and Analysis
Wing (RAW), offered a prescient assessment in April 1969.
Highlighting the massive popular support for the Six Points and
reactions to the Agartala Conspiracy Case in East Bengal, RAW
anticipated:
‘The [Pakistan] authorities would have to resort to large-scale use
of the Army and other paramilitary forces in East Pakistan to curb a
movement which has already gained considerable strength. The use
of force is likely, in turn, to lead to a situation where the people of
East Pakistan, supported by elements of the East Pakistan Rifles
(who are known to be sympathetic towards the secessionist
movement as evidenced from the recent East Pakistan Conspiracy
Case), may rise in revolt against the Central Authority and even
declare their independence.’ 27
2. Birth of a Nation

On assuming office as president and chief martial law administrator,


Yahya announced his intention of holding free and fair elections to
pave the way for a new constitution. He conceded the Bengali
demand for parliamentary representation in proportion to population.
(This gave East Pakistan a majority of 162 seats in the 302-member
National Assembly.) The assembly thus elected was to draw up a
new constitution within sixty days – a formidable task, considering
that it took Pakistan almost twenty years to produce its first
constitution. To ensure that the new constitution protected the
interests of the army, Yahya decreed that his ‘authentication’ was
required for it to come into effect.
Pakistan held its first general elections in December 1970, almost a
quarter of a century after gaining independence. In the eastern wing,
the Awami League, under Mujib’s leadership, succeeded in
converting the election campaign into a virtual referendum on the Six
Points. Right-wing parties calling for a strong Centre found no
support from the public. Left-wing parties championed the regional
cause, but questioned whether the rights of East Bengal could be
achieved through constitutional means. The veteran peasant leader
Maulana Bhashani called for independence and declared that his
party, the National Awami Party (B), would boycott the elections.
In the event, the Awami League won 160 of the 162 East Pakistani
seats for the national legislature, thereby gaining an absolute
majority in the house of 300. In West Pakistan, Bhutto’s PPP won 81
of the 140 seats. Significantly, the PPP did not contest a single seat
in the eastern wing, while the Awami League fielded only seven
candidates in West Pakistan, all of whom were defeated. The
Pakistani general elections saw two separate campaigns – in East
and West Pakistan, respectively – featuring different parties and
contrasting issues.
The results took Yahya by surprise. Military intelligence estimates
had predicted that the Awami League would win no more than 46–70
of the 162 East Pakistani seats.1 Yahya had expected an outcome
that gave no party an absolute majority in the National Assembly,
leaving him free to play on party and personality differences in the
time-honoured manner. Yet, the Pakistani army was not altogether
unprepared to deal with a recalcitrant Mujib. Even before the polling,
the army had begun to draw up contingency plans for a military
crackdown in the event of Mujib proving to be uncooperative. On 11
December, within four days of the declaration of electoral results, Lt
Gen. Yaqub Khan, chief martial law administrator for East Pakistan,
issued a contingency plan, named ‘Operation Blitz’, to be
implemented in certain emergency situations, such as open defiance
of the martial law, a mass movement jeopardizing the integrity of
Pakistan, or a declaration of independence. The general, a student
of Napoleonic strategy, believed at the time that a ‘whiff of the
grapeshot’ would suffice if Mujib and his followers refused to
‘behave’.2 The army was determined to preserve its prerogatives.
Bhutto fired the first salvo of West Pakistani intransigence. In a
public speech on 20 December, he declared that ‘a majority alone
does not count in national politics’,3 emphasizing that real power at
the Centre rested in Punjab and Sind. He declared that a constitution
could not be framed either, without the cooperation of his party, nor a
government formed at the Centre unless it included the party. Bhutto
clearly believed that in the final analysis he could turn to the army to
coerce the Bengalis into accepting the traditional dominance of West
Pakistan.4 A familiar pattern was repeating itself. As the Awami
Leaguer Kamal Hossain points out, ‘. . . a minority, unable to contain
a majority within a democratically constituted representative
institution had always fallen back on military force’.5
Mujib’s sweeping electoral victory and the unbounded Bengali
enthusiasm for full autonomy made Mujib a willing prisoner of the
Six-Point Demand. He risked a strong reaction from his followers if
he were to water down the programme. On 3 January 1971, he led
the newly elected Awami League legislators in solemnly swearing
their commitment to full realization of the Six-Point programme.
Addressing a massive public rally, he declared that the Awami
League would never compromise on the Six Points. He called for
friendly relations with neighbouring countries and peaceful
settlement of all disputes. 6 These included Kashmir – an issue that
aroused little emotion in East Pakistan – as well as the Farakka
Barrage issue and the equitable utilization of the flows of the Ganges
River between India and East Pakistan.
In this tense situation, the Awami League leaders feared that the
Pakistani army might precipitate hostilities with India in order to
divert attention from the internal crisis and whip up nationalist
sentiment to thwart their demand for autonomy. It alerted its contacts
in Indian intelligence to this possibility and appealed to India to
refrain from responding to Pakistani border provocations.

Indian reactions – January 1971


On receiving the Awami League’s message, Ramji Kao, head of
India’s external intelligence agency RAW, sent a lengthy report to the
prime minister’s influential secretary, Parmeshwar Narain Haksar.
Haksar and Indira Gandhi knew each other well since their student
days in England in the late 1930s. In the words of his biographer
Jairam Ramesh, ‘Haksar contributed heavily to the making of Indira
Gandhi, especially in the first six or seven years of her prime
ministership . . . They formed an awesome duo: she with her
charismatic appeal, he with his intellectual gravitas. Ultimately, she
took all the decisions, no doubt, but she was influenced heavily by
him at every turn.’7 Haksar would play a central role in the crisis of
1971.
In his report to Haksar, Kao offered the assessment that in the
event of a constitutional impasse in Pakistan, the martial law
authorities would seek to divert public attention from the internal
crisis by initiating a military confrontation with India or an infiltration
campaign in Kashmir. In this context, Kao drew attention to the
considerable increase in Pakistan’s military capabilities since the
1965 India–Pakistan war.
The possibility of another Pakistani military adventure in Kashmir
was never far from Indian minds. Only five years had passed since
the latest Pakistani attempt to seize Kashmir by force. Kao’s report
only confirmed Haksar’s own apprehensions. He alerted the prime
minister: ‘. . . with the overwhelming victory of East Pakistan Wing,
the solution of internal problems of Pakistan have become infinitely
more difficult. Consequently, the temptation to seek a solution of
these problems by external adventures has become very great.’8
Though the prime minister (and Haksar himself) were preoccupied at
the time with a bitterly contested general election, they found time for
a series of meetings with the service chiefs to discuss the problem
and identify deficiencies in India’s defence equipment. A list of
requirements was handed over to the Soviet ambassador. Moscow’s
response was prompt and positive.9 Thus, at the beginning of the
year, India was preparing to meet a Pakistani threat to Kashmir on
the lines of the last war.
Senior Indian diplomats and intelligence officers met at the MEA on
6 January to consider the broader implications of developments in
East Pakistan. Kao brought up the question of the Awami League’s
appeal for forbearance in the event of Pakistani border provocations.
Though there was great sympathy for the Awami League, it was
decided that border incursions by Pakistan could not go
unchallenged. Kao was asked to inform the Awami League that India
would strictly refrain from initiating any incident, but it would be
compelled to retaliate if Pakistan were to violate the border.
The discussion centred on the prospects of a constitutional accord
in Pakistan, the possibility of a secessionist movement in East
Pakistan, and the implications of these developments for India. It
was generally accepted that formidable difficulties stood in the way
of agreement on the constitution and that there was a very real
possibility of a secessionist movement if the Awami League’s
demand for autonomy were to be rejected. Officials were, however,
divided on the question as to whether a secessionist movement was
inevitable – or desirable – from an Indian viewpoint. The senior MEA
officials, Secretary (East) S.K. Banerji and High Commissioner in
Pakistan B.K. Acharya, argued that secession could not be treated
as a foregone conclusion. Acharya argued that Bhutto might well
accept the Six-Point programme for autonomy, with each wing of
Pakistan going its own way, if he himself could be all-powerful in
West Pakistan. The differences between the Awami League and the
army were more problematical. The Pakistani army would never
accept a constitution under which it would have to depend for its
finances on subventions from the federating units. However, argued
Acharya, it could not be altogether ruled out that the Awami League
might agree to a compromise on the financial implications of the Six
Points.
Acharya and Banerji adhered to the conventional line that
secession was not in India’s interest. Even before the announcement
of the Pakistan electoral results, Acharya had spelled out this view in
a dispatch to New Delhi. While recognizing the real possibility of a
secessionist movement, he argued that the only hope of a
breakthrough in Indo-Pakistan relations lay in a transition to
democracy in Pakistan, with the Awami League forming a
government at the Centre. India’s efforts to improve relations had so
far been met with ‘unrelenting hostility from the central Pakistani
Government dominated by West Pakistanis’.
He wrote:
Majority control of the Central Pakistan Government by East Pakistanis
seems to be our only hope for achieving our policy objectives towards
Pakistan and overcoming this stone-wall resistance of West Pakistan. In
order that this hope may become a reality, however, it is essential that
Pakistan (with its East Pakistan majority) should remain one, so that we
may pursue our policy objectives through the leaders of East Pakistan
[emphasis in original].10
Acharya also pointed out that a prolonged armed struggle in East
Pakistan was likely to pass under the control of pro-China Naxalite
elements. (In 1971, West Bengal was still in the final stages of
suppressing a prolonged and destructive Naxal insurgency.) Finally,
the high commissioner noted that a secessionist movement in
Pakistan’s eastern wing might also give rise to demands for a
‘Greater Bengal’, threatening India’s own territorial integrity. This may
seem far-fetched today, but for people of Acharya’s and Banerji’s
generation, the 1947 proposal for an independent undivided Bengal
launched jointly by Suhrawardy, Sarat Bose and other prominent
provincial politicians was more than just a historical footnote.
There was general agreement in the meeting about the danger of a
drawn-out guerrilla war passing into the hands of the extreme left,
with the attendant dangers to India’s security. However, Kao
disagreed with Acharya and Banerji on the prospects of a
constitutional compromise. He insisted that the West Pakistan
establishment would never accept a dominant role for the eastern
wing. The RAW assessment was that the Pakistani army would
reject any fundamental shift in the existing power structure. Kao also
emphasized that Mujib’s own hands were tied and that he could not
afford to accept a compromise. If he deviated from the Six-Point
programme, he would be swept aside by popular sentiment. Kao
added that he had received information that Mujib himself viewed
secession as a distinct possibility and was preparing for such an
eventuality. He argued (as he had done earlier, in 1969) that India
should have the capacity to offer the assistance that the Awami
League might require if it launched an independence movement. An
independence struggle would have to progress on a multi-directional
front, encompassing a political movement to maintain continuing
popular support, and the raising of a volunteer army to reinforce the
Bengali regulars declaring for independence. Among the MEA
officials present, only the head of the Pakistan division, Asoke Ray,
agreed with Kao. (Ray, it will be recalled, had direct contacts with
Mujibur Rahman in 1965–66.)
Thus, the divergence between the MEA and RAW perspectives,
visible even in 1969, remained unresolved. The MEA view remained
dominant in official circles. As we shall see further, it was shared by
the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) at its highest level, right up to
25 March 1971.
In retrospect, it is clear that the RAW anticipated events correctly,
but as of early January, none of the major protagonists – Mujib,
Yahya and Bhutto – had ruled out the possibility of reaching an
agreement on the constitution, even though each of them was also
preparing for a breakdown in the talks. (Indeed, as we shall see
below, both Mujib and Bhutto were to explore the possibility of a
constitutional accord on the lines anticipated by Acharya in early
January.) Neither was it inevitable that the Pakistani army would
pursue its institutional interests at the cost of national unity. The
seniormost officers in East Pakistan, Admiral Ahsan and Lt Gen.
Yaqub Khan, would warn Yahya in early March about the folly of a
crackdown.

Initial explorations: Mujib, Yahya and Bhutto in January


1971
Yahya visited Dhaka in mid-January for talks with Mujib and the
Awami League high command. As Acharya had anticipated, Mujib
took the opportunity to explain that the Six-Point programme would
accommodate the institutional interests of the army. The size of the
army would not be reduced. Adequate finances for the army and the
central government could be ensured by incorporating a suitable
provision in the constitution. Mujib offered Yahya the post of
president, catering also to the general’s personal interests. Mujib
urged Yahya to convene the National Assembly by 15 February.
When he requested Yahya to spell out any objection he might have
to the Six-Point programme, the president said that he himself had
no objection, but Mujib would have to carry the West Pakistani
leaders with him. He thus obliquely brought up a question of
importance for the army – the composition of the new central
government and inclusion in it of a reliable counterpoise to the
Awami League.
The Awami League’s thinking on the constitution was explained in
greater detail when its legal expert, Kamal Hossain, met with Lt Gen.
Peerzada, Yahya’s principal staff officer (PSO). Kamal Hossain
explained that constitutional provisions would ensure that a certain
portion of the revenues and foreign exchange earnings would be
automatically appropriated by the central government. Regarding
control over foreign trade and aid, Hossain said that the regional
governments could resolve any differences through negotiations held
within the framework of the country’s foreign policy. Finally, Hossain
dismissed the possibility of a conflict between the Centre and East
Pakistan, pointing out that both governments would be led by the
Awami League.11
Before his departure from Dhaka, Yahya made a statement
describing Mujib as the future prime minister of Pakistan. The
positive tone of the statement was soon to be belied by events. After
Dhaka, Yahya proceeded to Larkana in Sind, where he was Bhutto’s
guest at a shikar (shooting party) on his extensive estates. Bhutto
reportedly criticized Yahya for naming Mujib as the future prime
minister even before the National Assembly had met. Bhutto said
that Mujib was a ‘clever bastard’ who wanted the National Assembly
to meet at an early date so that he could ‘bulldoze’ an Awami
League constitution through the assembly. He argued that a
consensus on the constitution must be reached before convention of
the assembly. Time would be needed to protect the interests of West
Pakistan and the army. If Mujib were a ‘true’ or ‘loyal’ Pakistani, he
would not object to this delay.12
The events that followed show that Bhutto’s arguments had made
an impression on Yahya. After Larkana, the president did not again
refer to Mujib as the future prime minister. More importantly, the
National Assembly was not convened in the time frame requested by
Mujib.
At the end of January, Mujib and Bhutto met in Dhaka. Mujib
focused on constitutional issues and the need for convening the
National Assembly at an early date. Bhutto dwelt on power-sharing
arrangements, demanding the post of deputy prime minister and
foreign minister or, as an alternative, the presidential post. He
showed scant interest in constitutional details, apart from rejecting
provincial control of foreign trade. Mujib was angered by Bhutto’s
arrogance – at his demand for sharing power as a matter of right and
at his hints that the army would never agree to hand over power to a
Bengali party unless he, Bhutto, were given a prominent role in the
government.13
The Awami League suspected, not without reason, that Bhutto and
the army leadership were hatching a plot against the Bengalis.
(Bhutto’s close confidant, Rafi Raza, has produced convincing
circumstantial evidence of collusion between his leader and Yahya
prior to each important development from mid-January to 25
March.14) On 29 January, Yahya confided to US ambassador
Farland his apprehensions about the future of the country, declaring
that he had no intention of accepting a constitution that could lead to
a split-up of Pakistan.15
Suspecting collusion between Bhutto and the army leadership, the
Awami League began to plan for a mass movement. On 21 January,
RAW reported that Awami League leaders were not optimistic about
an accord on the constitution and were thinking of launching a mass
movement. In early February, RAW confirmed that Mujib was
planning to build up the party’s capacity to launch a mass
movement.16 In early February, dismayed by the delay in the
announcement of dates for the convention of the National Assembly,
the Awami League leaders had held a secret meeting to consider the
option of declaration of independence. Sheikh Mujib and the Awami
League general secretary, Tajuddin Ahmed, had carefully examined
the measures needed to implement a unilateral decision. Kamal
Hossain and Tajuddin were tasked to draw up a formal proclamation
of independence.17
The contrasting positions of Bhutto and Mujib concerning India
were highlighted when two Kashmiris hijacked an Indian passenger
plane to Lahore at the end of January 1971. The hijackers were
given sanctuary in Pakistan and the plane was blown up at the
airport. Bhutto rushed to the airport to hail the hijackers as heroes
and announced that his party would assist the terrorist group in
whatever manner they wanted. Mujib deplored the failure of the
authorities to prevent the destruction of the aircraft, called for an
official inquiry and alerted the public against attempts by ‘vested
interests’ to ‘create abnormal conditions with the ulterior purpose of
sabotaging the peaceful transfer of power to the people’.18
There was a brief parting of the clouds on 13 February, when
Yahya announced that the National Assembly would meet in Dhaka
on 3 March. The Awami League welcomed the announcement, but
its hopes were soon to be dashed. Bhutto declared that he would
boycott the meeting. Yahya made no serious attempt to dissuade
him, despite the fact that other parties from the western wing were
ready to participate in the National Assembly. Rather, Yahya decided
on 20 February that Mujib must be made to ‘see sense’.19 On 22
February, Bhutto’s PPP declared that a grave national crisis had
arisen on account of the constitutional deadlock, implying that it
rejected the Six-Point formula. On the same day, Yahya met with his
provincial governors and martial law administrators to inform them of
his decision to indefinitely postpone the National Assembly session.
The governor of East Pakistan, Admiral Ahsan, argued strongly
against the decision. He was supported by the Sind governor,
General Rahman Gul, but the warnings of the two provincial
governors were summarily rejected by Yahya. Ahsan was instructed
to inform Mujib of the decision on 28 February, on the eve of the
presidential announcement to be made on 1 March.20
Preparations went ahead for applying a ‘whiff of the grapeshot’ to
the Bengalis. On 27 February, Maj. Gen. Khadim Hussain Raja,
General Officer Commanding (GOC), 14 Div. and deputy martial law
administrator, issued orders to the army to prepare to put ‘Operation
Blitz’ into action any time after midday on 1 March. Troops fanned
out to the district towns to deal with disturbances that might arise
following the announcement the next day of the indefinite
postponement of the National Assembly meeting.
On the evening of 28 February, Governor Ahsan informed Mujib
and Tajuddin of the president’s decision to postpone the National
Assembly session indefinitely. Having carried out his distasteful duty,
the governor sent in his resignation, warning the president that a
‘point of no return’ had been reached.21

Non-cooperation
Shortly after 1 p.m. on 1 March, Radio Pakistan announced Yahya’s
decision to postpone the National Assembly session to an
unspecified ‘later date’ in view of the failure of political leaders to
reach a consensus on the main features of the constitution, and the
risk of a confrontation between the political leaders of the two wings.
As Kamal Hossain points out, this meant in effect that the ‘. . . ruling
minority would have a veto on constitution-making and, indeed,
unless there was a prior understanding with them, the Assembly
would not be convened’.22
The US Consulate General in Dhaka was situated at a central
location on the topmost floors of one of the city’s few multistoreyed
buildings. The consul general, Archer Blood, surveyed the scene in
the streets below after the radio announcement. Sensing the mood
of the crowds below, the consul general reported to Washington that
he had just witnessed the ‘beginning of the break-up of Pakistan’.23
A powerful undercurrent of nationalism was visible everywhere.
Student groups were in the forefront, raising the slogans ‘Joi Bangla’
[Victory to Bengal] and ‘Bir Bangali, ostro dhoro, Bangladesh
swadhin koro [Brave Bengalis, take up arms, liberate Bangladesh]’.
Militant processions converged on the Purbani Hotel, where the
Awami League leaders were holding a meeting. The crowd carried
sticks and staves, and raised the cry of ‘independence’.
The mass movement that began on 1 March was planned by Mujib,
but it was also the spontaneous reaction of a people who had been
denied their democratic rights once too often. Mujib harnessed the
protests to launch a comprehensive non-cooperation movement.
This began with his call for a peaceful, countrywide hartal (strike),
including closure of government offices and the courts. Certain
specified services, such as the post office, public utilities, railways
and other public transportation, factories and markets, were
exempted from the strike. The call met with total compliance. The
army was unable to obtain provisions from the market as
shopkeepers refused to transact business with the military. Curfews
declared by the army were systematically defied by the populace.
The resultant situation has been described by the deputy martial
law administrator, Maj. Gen. Khadim Hussain Raja.
The Martial Law Administrator, at this stage, was left with no one to answer
his commands except his troops. Even in the matter of troops, it became
clear to us that the Bengali troops would not shoot at the Bengali crowds.
In fact, it seemed obvious that on a clarion call from Sheikh Mujib, they
would even take up arms in his support.24
Raja consulted other senior officers in Dhaka about the feasibility of
conducting Operation Blitz in the prevailing situation. He records,
‘Each one of them was of the opinion that it would be sheer “lunacy”
to conduct the operation at that time as the whole basis, and all the
prerequisites for attempting it had been knocked out with one
blow.’25
The futility of military repression in the face of massive public
resistance was clear also to the author of Operation Blitz, Lt Gen.
Yaqub Khan. An intelligent and perceptive analyst, Yaqub Khan
followed Ahsan in cabling his resignation to Yahya. He explained:
Only solution to present crisis is a purely political one . . . I am convinced
there is no military solution which can make sense in present situation. I
am consequently unable to accept the responsibility for implementing a
mission, namely military solution, which would mean civil war and large-
scale killings of unarmed civilians and achieve no sane aim.26
Undeterred by the warnings of his two seniormost colleagues in the
eastern wing, Yahya decided to replace them with an officer with a
reputation for carrying out operations against civilians with
unquestioning brutality. Lt Gen. Tikka Khan, famed as the ‘Butcher of
Baluchistan’, was appointed governor and martial law administrator
of East Pakistan, in succession to Lt Gen. Yaqub.
Lt Gen. Tikka Khan soon discovered the ground realities in Dhaka.
Arriving at the governor’s house, he found that all the Bengali staff
had disappeared! The governor was obliged to move to the
cantonment as Maj. Gen. Raja’s guest.27 A little later, he was to
discover that none of the judges of the Dhaka High Court was
prepared to swear him in as governor of the province. Non-
cooperation extended to the judiciary too.
Developments in the eastern wing rapidly gained momentum.
Student and youth groups, in particular, were pressing Mujib to make
a formal declaration of independence in his scheduled speech on 7
March. Kamal Hossain recalls that by 7 March, ‘anything less [than
independence] would not be acceptable to the students, the younger
elements, and indeed large sections of politically conscious
people’.28 However, Mujib had also to contend with the fact that an
immediate declaration of independence would precipitate a massive
military onslaught on the people. In the early hours of 7 May, Maj.
Gen. Raja sent a message to Mujib, warning him that if he were to
proclaim independence, the army would be sent in to wreck the
planned public rally and ‘raze Dhaka to the ground if required’.29
On 7 March, Mujib addressed a massive public rally in Dhaka’s
Race Course grounds (now Suhrawardy Udayan). In a masterpiece
of oratory, he gave a rousing call to the people to be prepared to
fight for freedom, stopping just short of an outright declaration of
independence. He listed as his immediate demands: (1) withdrawal
of martial law; (2) sending the troops back to their barracks; (3) an
inquiry into the killing of civilians; and (4) transfer of power to the
elected representatives of the people.30
The non-cooperation movement rapidly developed into an effective
governing system. The initial call for a hartal was progressively
modified to ensure that the public were not subjected to avoidable
inconvenience and that economic activities could be sustained in a
manner consistent with the Six-Point Demand. This was achieved
through a series of directives issued by Tajuddin Ahmed, operating
from a room in Mujib’s home, and by the Bangabandhu himself.
Thus, banks were allowed to conduct domestic transactions, while
ensuring that no remittances were effected outside ‘Bangladesh’.
Postal and telegraph services were to operate within but not outside
‘Bangladesh’, except for press cables. Essential services were to be
maintained.
On 14 March, a new set of directives replaced previous
regulations. The hartal directive was relaxed to allow the
administration to maintain law and order, as well as development
activities, in cooperation with the local Awami League Sangram
Parishads (Struggle Committees). Port authorities were to carry out
their normal functions, but would refuse the use of their facilities for
transportation of troops or military materials. Customs duties were
not to be credited to the central government account; they were
required to be deposited in special accounts to be operated in
accordance with Awami League instructions. Railways were to
resume their normal functions, but were to refuse facilities for
transporting troops or materials. All provincial taxes were to be
credited to the account of the ‘Government of Bangla Desh’. Direct
central government taxes were not to be collected till further notice.
Customs duties and all other indirect central taxes were to be
deposited in special accounts to be operated in accordance with
directives issued by the Awami League authorities. Thus, by mid-
March, the government offices, law courts, banks and other public
services in ‘Bangla Desh’ were effectively operating under Awami
League directions. The administrative and judicial authorities
functioned under Awami League control; only the military forces
remained under effective central control.
Taking note of the cascading developments in the eastern wing,
Bhutto threw out a feeler on 14 March. He suggested, in a
deliberately ambiguous public speech, that the Awami League might
form a government in East Pakistan and the PPP in West Pakistan.
A leading Urdu newspaper reported the speech under the headlines
‘Udhar Tum, Idhar Hum’ (You There, We Here).31 (Acharya was not
wide of the mark!) Bhutto dropped the proposal when it drew
negative reactions in West Pakistan.

Mujib’s appeal for India’s assistance


While launching the mass movement at the beginning of March,
Mujib recognized the danger of a military crackdown and the need to
be prepared for this contingency. On 2 March, RAW chief Kao
informed Indira Gandhi that an appeal had been received from the
Awami League for arms and ammunition, communications and
signal equipment, a radio transmitter, a small passenger aircraft for
speedy movement on the Indian side of the border, as well as
medicines and food supplies. It was apparent that Mujib
contemplated the possibility of waging a resistance war, with
sanctuaries along the Indian border. This was the first time that a
comprehensive and specific list of requests had been received from
the Awami League. It was also evident that the list was drawn up in
haste, without careful calculation; thus, the requirement for food
supplies was fixed at the incredible level of 3 million tons!
The request raised complex issues for Indian officials. Was the
break-up of Pakistan in India’s interests? How would Pakistan react
if India were to get involved? Would it retaliate across the Kashmir
ceasefire line? Should Indian assistance be preceded by recognition
of Bangladesh as an independent state? How would the international
community react to Indian intervention in a Pakistani civil war?
Would China come to Pakistan’s assistance? Under the prime
minister’s instructions, a committee headed by the cabinet secretary
was formed to examine these questions. The committee included
Secretary to the Prime Minister P.N. Haksar, Foreign Secretary T.N.
Kaul, Home Secretary Govind Narain, and RAW chief R.N. Kao.
Kao, who had long anticipated the separation of Bangladesh,
emphatically pressed for a positive response:
. . . the longer the liberation struggle takes to achieve success, the greater
are the chances of its control passing into the hands of extremists and pro-
China communists . . . Therefore, it would be in our own interest to give
aid, adequate and quick enough to ensure the early success of the
liberation of Bangladesh.32
Tajuddin Ahmed followed up the request in a meeting with Deputy
High Commissioner K.C. Sen Gupta in the first week of March. The
Awami League general secretary inquired whether India would offer
political asylum and other support in the event of a Pakistani
crackdown.33
While Indian officials grappled with the complex questions raised
by these requests, Mujib was impatient for an immediate response.
A few days after Tajuddin’s meeting with Sen Gupta, Mujib sent
another emissary, Capt. Sujat Ali, to convey to the deputy high
commissioner his dissatisfaction over India’s failure to make a
definite response to his appeal. To goad India into prompt action,
Mujib’s emissary spun a yarn about an American offer to assist the
liberation movement in exchange for a naval base facility in the Bay
of Bengal! Capt. Sujat Ali also communicated Mujib’s concern over
the withdrawal of some Indian troops from the West Pakistan border.
(These troops had been sent to the border in the wake of the
hijacking incident in January.) Mujib felt that the withdrawal had
made it easier for Pakistan to transfer troops to the eastern wing. He,
therefore, appealed to India to intercept Pakistani troops, ships and
aircraft on the pretext of border violations.34
From his vantage point in Dhaka, Sen Gupta was convinced that
Mujib had no alternative but to fight for independence and,
furthermore, that an independent Bangladesh would prove to be a
friendly neighbour. Since Sen Gupta’s urgent cables proposing full
support to the Bangladesh cause elicited no clear response from
New Delhi, the deputy high commissioner decided to present his
case in person to the Indian authorities. To throw Pakistani
intelligence off the scent, he concocted a story about a wedding in
his family that required his presence in India. Just before emplaning,
however, he received instructions to remain at his post and to stay in
touch with the rapidly changing situation. Sen Gupta ignored the
message and flew to Kolkata so that he could at least explain his
case to New Delhi over a secure telephone line.
On his return to Dhaka, Sen Gupta met Tajuddin on 17 March.
According to a generally reliable Bangladeshi account, he told
Tajuddin that the Indian high commissioner in Islamabad was not yet
convinced that a military onslaught was imminent. However, if such a
contingency were indeed to arise, India would offer all possible
cooperation to the victims.35 This guarded response avoided specific
commitments. It was agreed that the two would meet again on 24
March, by which date Tajuddin hoped to obtain Mujib’s authorization
to discuss the specifics of the required assistance. The planned
meeting did not, however, materialize, partly because of other
pressing demands on Tajuddin and partly because he received no
further instructions from Mujib.36

Mujib and the United States


Mujib was determined to achieve his goal by peaceful means, if
possible, or by a liberation war, if necessary. He hoped to preserve
the first option by persuading the United States to use its influence in
favour of a peaceful solution, while he turned to India to prepare for
the latter contingency.
As we saw in the previous chapter, Washington, like New Delhi,
had foreseen the possibility of a break-up of Pakistan as early as in
1969. The assessments in the two capitals continued to show
striking similarity right up to 25 March 1971, a similarity all the more
remarkable in the context of their divergent policies during the
Bangladesh liberation war.
Washington commenced contingency planning in February 1971
for a possible declaration of independence by Sheikh Mujib. As in
the case of the parallel Indian exercise initiated in January, no
conclusive decision emerged, and the outcome was a wait-and-see
approach. On 16 February, Henry Kissinger, President Nixon’s
national security adviser, called for a contingency study on US
options in the event of an East Pakistan secessionist movement.
Meanwhile, he advised President Nixon:
The U.S. position has been that we support the unity of Pakistan . . .
[H]owever, we could before long be faced with a declaration of East
Pakistani independence . . . That raises the issue of whether or not we
should be adopting a more neutral stand toward Rahman, who is basically
friendly toward the U.S., as a hedge against the day when we might have
to deal with an independent East Pakistan. A realistic assessment would
seem to recognize that there is very little material left in the fabric of the
unity of Pakistan. This would argue for adjusting our posture, but against
that is the fact that the division of Pakistan would not serve U.S.
interests.37
Nixon’s first reaction was not wholly negative. He underlined the
words ‘more neutral stance towards Rahman’, commenting, ‘not yet
– correct – but not any position which encourages secession’.38
The sense of an impending crisis was strengthened when
American ambassador Farland met President Yahya and Mujib in the
last week of February. The ambassador reported that Yahya ‘spoke
in a tone of despair of the “blood and chaos” which might ensue if
the Bhutto–Mujib impasse was not resolved. He dropped a broad
hint that he might have to defer the National Assembly session’.39
Mujib told Farland that the political impasse was not caused solely
by Bhutto’s machinations; Bhutto’s position would have been
untenable but for the support of certain military leaders. Bhutto’s
foreign policy was abhorrent, Mujib said, citing Bhutto’s
intransigence against India and his love for communist China. It was
essential to establish good relations with India and reopen traditional
trade routes. Mujib said that he did not want separation, but rather a
form of confederation. Mujib sounded out the ambassador regarding
Washington’s policy at this critical juncture. Pointing to the leverage
provided by US economic aid it extended Pakistan, he appealed to
the United States to exert its influence with the Pakistani army in
order to ensure a peaceful resolution of the crisis. Following
instructions, Farland ‘. . . in no way conveyed a sense of concern
regarding Pakistan’s future in such a manner as to suggest an
unalterable U.S. opposition to Bangla aspirations’.40
On 1 March, the massive and spontaneous Bengali reaction
against Yahya’s decision to postpone the National Assembly session
created a powerful impression in Washington. Archer Blood’s
assessment that it signalled the ‘beginning of the end of a united
Pakistan’ was broadly accepted in the capital. Kissinger’s staff
alerted him: ‘Events in Pakistan today took a major step toward a
possible early move by East Pakistan for independence.’ They
raised two questions. Should the US hedge its bets with East
Pakistan against its possible secession? Should the US try to avoid
bloodshed in the event of secession?41
On Kissinger’s instructions, the National Security Council (NSC)
staff prepared a contingency study in early March on the East
Pakistan situation. Its cautious recommendation was: ‘Unless and
until separation is certain, any shift in our position would be against
our continuing interest in seeing Pakistan remain unified.’ The stance
bore a certain similarity to that adopted by the external affairs
ministry in New Delhi. As in New Delhi, the US intelligence agency,
the CIA, advocated a more proactive role. The CIA pointed out that a
split would bring the pro-Chinese Bhutto into power in West
Pakistan. A loose confederation would be preferable, since it would
check Bhutto’s pro-Chinese and anti-India policies. The CIA
therefore argued that Washington should urge Yahya to reach an
accommodation with Mujib, but ‘if separation becomes imminent, but
before it is announced, we should . . . let East Pakistani leaders
know privately that, should East Pakistan become independent, we
would recognize the new state’.42
Kissinger chaired a meeting of senior officials on 6 March to review
the East Pakistan situation. Deputy Secretary of State Alexis
Johnson summed up the prevailing situation as follows:
While we have maintained a posture of hoping the country can be brought
together and its unity preserved, the chances of doing so now are
extremely slight. It is only a question of time and circumstances as to how
they will split, and to what degree the split is complete or may be papered
over in some vague confederal scheme . . . [In the circumstances] if Mujib
approaches us, we will have to walk a tightrope between making him think
we are giving him the cold shoulder and not encouraging him to move
toward a split if any hope remains for a compromise . . . [If Yahya were to
use force against the Bengalis, the] judgment of all of us is that . . . the
result would be a bloodbath with no hope of West Pakistan reestablishing
control over East Pakistan.
Johnson emphasized that ‘. . . this is not an East–West, or a US–
Soviet, or a US–Indian confrontation. The US, USSR and India all
have an interest in the continued unity of Pakistan and have nothing
to gain from a break-up.’
His assessment was that India would probably not intervene in the
short run in the event of a Pakistani crackdown, but if the turmoil
continued it might feel impelled to do so.
When Johnson referred to the option of discouraging Yahya from
using force in East Pakistan, Kissinger cautioned the Senior Review
Group to bear in mind Nixon’s ‘special relationship’ with Yahya. The
president would be reluctant to press Yahya to exercise restraint
and, in any case, the Pakistanis ‘wouldn’t give a damn’. Following
this intervention, the officials concluded that a policy of ‘massive
inaction’ would be appropriate in the circumstances. It was decided
to instruct Consul General Blood to simply refer the matter to
Washington if Mujib were to sound him out over a declaration of
independence.43
On 10 March, Mujib’s emissary Alamgir Rahman met Blood to
convey that the Awami League leader was anxious to arrive at a
political settlement with Yahya. Mujib’s question to Blood was: Does
the United States want to see military confrontation with the prospect
of eventual communist domination of Bengal, or would it prefer a
political solution to the crisis? Mujib was obviously hoping that
Washington would
apply pressure on Yahya to desist from a military solution. Blood
parried the question by replying blandly that the United States hoped
for a peaceful political solution and believed that this was desired by
both Mujib and Yahya!44
In March 1971, there was nothing to indicate that the United States
would see the break-up of Pakistan as a contest between the
superpowers or as anything more than a South Asia issue. Kissinger
had dropped a broad hint about the president’s ‘tilt’ in favour of
Pakistan, but its laboured geopolitical rationalization was yet to make
an appearance.

To the brink and beyond


On 15 March, at a time when the ground realities were evolving at an
incredible speed, Yahya arrived in Dhaka, ostensibly for negotiations
with Mujib. Outside the limits of the military cantonments, the entire
province was by now effectively controlled by the Awami League.
The army was bringing in reinforcements to cope with the situation,
but movement of military supplies was being systematically
obstructed by the public, precipitating confrontations between the
military and the civilian population. Except for some fringe elements,
the entire Bengali population was united in its demand for immediate
implementation of the Six Points, now being interpreted as
independence by an ever-increasing number of people. The
emotional ties between the two wings of Pakistan had been reduced
to a mere thread by this time.
Yahya’s actions cast doubts on his stated intention of finding a
political solution. His first act on arriving in Dhaka was to convene a
meeting of senior military officers to take stock of the security
situation. On 17 March, after his initial talks with Mujib, Yahya
ordered his generals to prepare plans for a massive crackdown. On
20 March, midway through the talks, Yahya approved the new plan,
code-named ‘Operation Searchlight’.45
When Mujib had called on Yahya on 16 March, he had pressed for
acceptance of the demands he had made in his public speech on 7
March – immediate withdrawal of martial law, and transfer of power
to the elected representatives of the people in the provinces as well
as at the Centre.46 Yahya raised no substantive objection, but said
he had been advised that there were legal difficulties in withdrawing
martial law before promulgation of a new constitution. This would
lead to a ‘legal vacuum’ in the intervening period. The legal point
was discussed between Lt Gen. Peerzada, PSO to the chief martial
law administrator, and Kamal Hossain, the latter contending that a
presidential Interim Arrangements Order (in effect, an interim
constitution) would prevent a legal vacuum. Lengthy debates
followed between the two legal teams.
On 17 March, discussions began on the procedures for framing
new constitutions for the regions and the Centre. The Awami League
proposed a presidential proclamation, under which the elected
representatives of the two wings would meet separately to draw up
constitutions for their respective wings. The constitution for the
eastern wing would be based squarely on the Six Points. Thereafter,
the elected representatives of both wings would meet together to
draw up a constitution for the whole of Pakistan. Yahya’s adviser,
Justice Cornelius, took the position that this would require a prior
resolution of the National Assembly. On the same day, while these
legal confabulations were in progress, Yahya issued instructions for
preparations for ‘Operation Searchlight’.
On 19 March, after another futile round of discussions on the same
legal issues, the presidential team decided to recommend a modified
formula to Yahya. Under this proposal, national and provincial
assemblies would be invested with the legislative powers available
under the 1962 constitution; national and provincial cabinets would
be formed; and the martial law administration in East Pakistan would
be abolished, while keeping the post of chief martial law
administrator intact. Instead of withdrawing martial law, as
demanded by the Awami League, the proposal was only to suspend
its operation in East Pakistan. Moreover, the Six Points could not be
accommodated within the 1962 constitution without basic
amendments in its provisions. The generals in Yahya’s entourage
raised strong objections even to the modest concession proposed by
his legal team, but after some hesitation the president finally
instructed the latter to prepare a draft martial law regulation on the
proposed lines.
While the negotiations proceeded at a snail’s pace, the situation at
the ground level was becoming more tense by the hour. The army
was bringing in reinforcements as speedily as possible and the
Bengalis were doing everything in their power to oppose the build-
up, knowing that it was to be used against them. The army had
repeatedly opened fire on crowds opposing movement of troops and
military equipment. During one such incident on 19 March, there was
an exchange of fire between the army and civilian groups. It was one
of the earliest instances of armed resistance by the Bengalis against
military rule.
This incident touched off a heated exchange between Yahya and
Mujib when they met on 20 March. An irate Yahya told Mujib that
negotiations could not proceed unless such incidents were stopped.
The Awami League leader angrily replied that if the army opened fire
on the unarmed masses, the latter might indeed be compelled to
take up arms.
The army should remain in the barracks and desist from further
provocation. After tempers had cooled down, Yahya and Mujib took
up the threads from the previous session. The president said he had
no objection in principle to Mujib’s proposals, but he was advised
that it would create a legal vacuum. Moreover, it was essential to
consult political leaders from West Pakistan, in particular, Bhutto.
Anticipating that Yahya and Bhutto would close ranks against him in
trilateral negotiations, Mujib replied that the president was free to
consult Bhutto but that he himself would not participate in
discussions with Bhutto in a trilateral format.
Up to this point, the Awami League demand was for a transfer of
power at both the Centre and the provinces. The mounting tide of
Bengali nationalism, however, raised questions about this formula.
On arriving at Mujib’s residence on the morning of 21 March, Kamal
Hossain found his leader engaged in deep discussion with Awami
League secretary general Tajuddin Ahmed. Mujib informed his
constitutional adviser that it would not be expedient, in view of the
popular mood, for the Awami League to take over power at the
Centre; it should only insist on an immediate transfer of power at the
provincial level. This was a significant change in the party’s position.
The student leaders in particular were arguing forcefully that the
Awami League might find itself compelled to accept compromises on
the Six-Point Demand if it were to form a government at the Centre.
To avoid this, the party should assume office only in the eastern
wing. An Awami League provincial government, free of central
entanglements, would also be able to build up the paramilitary East
Pakistan Rifles (EPR) and the police force to prepare for the
contingency of armed confrontation.
Thus, on the morning of 21 March, Mujib and his team held an
unscheduled meeting with Yahya and presented their revised
proposals. These called for: (i) immediate appointment of an East
Pakistan governor selected by the Awami League; (ii) martial law to
be lifted totally, as soon the governor assumed office; (iii) an interim
constitution based on the 1962 constitution, with amendments
incorporating the Six Points; and (iv) continuation of the president in
office at the Centre. The Awami League hoped that the last provision
would make the package palatable to Yahya.
The significance of the shift in Mujib’s position was not lost on the
president’s advisers. It deepened Cornelius’s fears that even a brief
‘constitutional vacuum’ might be exploited by the Bengalis to declare
independence. But Yahya, who had already set in motion steps
towards another ‘solution’, instructed Cornelius to proceed with the
drafting exercise. As in the earlier talks in January, Yahya’s tactics
were to affect the posture of a neutral referee, counting on Bhutto to
shoot down the Awami League proposals.
Bhutto arrived in Dhaka on 21 March, and on the following day
Yahya had separate meetings with Mujib and Bhutto. Bhutto also
had an informal conversation with Mujib outside the conference
room. After the president had briefed Bhutto about the Awami
League proposals, Bhutto predictably opposed them, warning that
they would create two Pakistans. Neither he nor Yahya recognized
that rejection of the Awami League proposals would inevitably
destroy the last remaining links between the two wings of Pakistan.
In the afternoon, a working draft of the presidential proclamation
prepared by Yahya’s legal team was handed over to Tajuddin and
Bhutto. Bhutto promptly raised objections to the draft, demanding
that the post of chief martial law administrator should remain in
position; that there should be no erosion of the Centre’s powers in
the fields of defence and foreign policy; that safeguards be
incorporated to guarantee adequate finances for the Centre’s role in
these and other areas; and that no legislation should be enacted
unless approved by a majority of members of each wing in the
National Assembly. In other words, he demanded a veto even for
constitutional changes relating to the eastern wing.
The events that unfolded the next day vividly demonstrated the
increasing depth of Bengali nationalism. Pakistan’s National Day, 23
March, was observed in the eastern wing as ‘Resistance Day’. The
green-and-red flag of Bangladesh fluttered atop private and even
official buildings all over Dhaka, with the exception only of the army
cantonment. Motor cars flew the Bangladesh flag. Innumerable
groups of students, youths and other activists paraded through the
streets, carrying the flag of Bangladesh and raising pro-
independence slogans. Mujib and his entourage arrived at the
president’s house flying the Bangladesh flag on their cars, arousing
deep anger among the generals.
The Awami League delegation brought with itself a heavily revised
version of the draft presented to them the previous evening by the
president’s team. Reflecting a fundamentally different approach, the
revised draft incorporated extensive amendments to the 1962
constitution to fully incorporate the Six-Point programme. It
envisaged an almost immediate revocation of Martial Law. It
provided for elected representatives of each wing to meet separately
to draw up constitutions for their respective wings; thereafter, they
would meet in a joint session to draw up a constitution for ‘whole of
Pakistan’. Under the Awami League draft, all powers of taxation
would vest in the provinces. For the military, this was an
unacceptable limitation of its hitherto unchallenged authority to
decide the size of the defence budget. In short, the Awami League
draft envisaged a ‘Confederation of Pakistan’, in which the West
Pakistani power elite, comprising the armed forces and political
leaders, would no longer be in a position to impose its will on the
‘State of Bangladesh’.
Even while the two delegations were engaged in formal debates on
these proposals, Yahya Khan was in the cantonment, instructing his
generals to speed up preparations for Operation Searchlight.
Generals Khadim Raja and Farman Ali were airborne soon after to
communicate the decision in the greatest secrecy to the brigade
commanders in the field.
Negotiations continued on 24 March in a desultory fashion, but by
then the Awami League leaders had begun to suspect that the
negotiations were a smokescreen for an imminent military
crackdown. Mujib sent his emissary Alamgir Rahman to Consul
General Blood to request the US to use its influence with Yahya in
favour of a political solution. Following his instructions, Blood offered
no assurance.47 The same day, Washington instructed Ambassador
Farland to avoid playing an intermediary role. ‘We do not believe we
can play [a] useful role as middlemen or mediator in [an] essentially
Pakistan[i] domestic concern,’ the ambassador was advised.48

Operation Searchlight
On the fateful day of 25 March, in anticipation of a crackdown, Mujib
instructed his senior colleagues to leave the city secretly and head
for the countryside. He himself would stay on and face the
consequences, hoping that this would reduce the ferocity of the
army’s assault on a defenceless population. Yahya flew out of Dhaka
secretly, hours before the Pakistani army launched Operation
Searchlight. By orders of the army, foreign journalists were confined
to the Intercontinental Hotel, pending expulsion. The New York
Times correspondent, Sydney Schanberg, provides a vivid account
of the scenes he witnessed from the hotel.
Huge fires could be seen in various parts of the city, including the university
area and the barracks of the East Pakistan Rifles . . . [Soldiers] set ablaze
large areas in many parts of Dacca after first shooting into the buildings
with automatic rifles, machine guns and recoilless rifles . . . [At the offices
of the People, a pro-Mujib newspaper, they] fired a rocket into the building
and followed this with small arms fire and machine-gun bursts. Then they
set fire to the building and began smashing the press and other equipment
. . . Moving further along, they set ablaze all the shops and shacks behind
the bazaar and soon the flames were climbing high above the two-storey
building . . . At 4:45 a.m., another big fire blazed, in the direction of the
East Pakistan Rifles Headquarters.49
Sheikh Mujib was arrested by the army and incarcerated in prison
in West Pakistan.
‘Here in Dacca we are mute and horrified witnesses to a reign of
terror by the Pak military,’ reported Consul General Archer Blood to
Washington on 28 March, in a telegram with the headline ‘Selective
Genocide’.
Evidence continues to mount that the MLA authorities [Military Law
Authorities] have a list of Awami League supporters whom they are
systematically eliminating by seeking them out in their homes and shooting
them down . . . Among those marked for extinction, in addition to A. L.
[Awami League] hierarchy are student leaders and university faculty.
The streets, he reported, were flooded with people fleeing the city.50
The ruins of a united Pakistan lay buried under a mountain of
corpses. The Pakistani army unleashed a reign of terror in
Bangladesh, carrying out massacres, rape, loot and arson on a
diabolic scale. Over the next eight months, no less than 10 million
people would flee for their lives and honour to neighbouring India.
3. Towards a Grand Strategy

Reports of the slaughter of unarmed civilians in East Bengal aroused


deep emotions among the Indian public. There was strong
condemnation of Pakistan across the political spectrum and
demands that the government extend full support to the Bangladesh
cause. The population of the border areas displayed an
extraordinary degree of solidarity in receiving and hosting the tidal
wave of refugees fleeing into India. Powerful voices were raised in
favour of formal recognition of an independent Bangladesh. On 31
March, the doyen of India’s strategic thinkers,
K. Subrahmanyam sounded a call for early military intervention by
India to install an independent Bangladesh government in Dhaka,
urging the Indian government to seize the historical opportunity. The
highly respected and influential analyst found wide support.
Some accounts of the 1971 war depict India as seizing the golden
opportunity offered by the Bangladesh uprising to pursue its plot of
dividing Pakistan. The documentary evidence disproves this view. As
we saw in the previous chapter, Indian policymakers were
apprehensive about the consequences of a break-up of Pakistan.
They had pinned their hopes on a transition to democracy in
Pakistan and a transfer of power to a Bengali-led government at the
Centre. Intervention was contemplated only in the event of a civil
war, which, if prolonged, was likely to be taken over by pro-Chinese
communist militants or ‘Naxalites’. As we have seen, Washington
correctly assessed the Indian position in March.
Indian policymakers reacted with horror and disbelief as news
trickled in of the military crackdown. For the first few days they found
it difficult to believe that the Pakistani army would pursue its
institutional interests by conducting savage massacres that could
only lead to a total collapse of national unity. New Delhi was still
reluctant to shed all hopes of a negotiated political settlement
between the army and the Awami League. A senior Indian official
later recalled:
First reports about the crackdown were alarming, yet we continued to
believe that negotiations would be resumed after a brief show of military
might . . . It was difficult to understand why the Pakistani rulers would go
over the brink and start a full-scale civil war. For at stake were the territorial
and ideological foundations of the state, matters too serious to be trifled
with.1
Thus, on 27 March, Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul suggested to the
US ambassador in Delhi, Kenneth Keating, that even at this late hour
it might still not be too late for Washington to convey to the Pakistan
government that it hoped for a political solution to the crisis. Kaul
said India was concerned that there could be a threat to its security.
Refugees were arriving from across the border and the exodus might
assume proportions that would exceed India’s ability to cope with the
problem. Keating replied that the US position was that the conflict
was an internal matter that should be settled internally.2
An agitated Indian Parliament met on 27 March to hear a statement
by the foreign minister on developments in Pakistan. Knowing the
deep feelings aroused by the crackdown, Indira Gandhi met
informally with opposition leaders before the session in order to take
them into confidence about government policy on the matter. A brief
prepared by her aide P.N. Haksar summed up the official thinking:
While our sympathy for the people of Bangladesh is natural, India as a
State has to walk warily. Pakistan is a State. It is a member of the U.N.
and, therefore, outside interference in events internal to Pakistan will not
earn us either understanding or goodwill from the majority of nation-States.
Haksar, who had earlier served as high commissioner
(ambassador) in Lagos, drew attention to the case of the Nigerian
civil war and the failure of the Biafra secessionist movement.
‘[W]here a state of civil war exists, international law and morality only
accords legitimacy to a successful rebellion.’ He emphasized that
‘[w]hatever the Government may or may not do, should not become
a subject-matter of public debate, as such a debate would defeat the
purpose of giving such comfort as we can to democratic forces in
Pakistan as a whole’.
It is noteworthy that even at this late stage, Haksar spoke of
‘assistance to democratic forces in Pakistan as a whole’. In the
immediate aftermath of the military crackdown there were confusing
and often contradictory reports emerging from East Pakistan; New
Delhi still clung to hopes of a transition to democracy in Pakistan
through a negotiated settlement between Yahya and Mujib.
Thus, on 27 March, Foreign Minister Swaran Singh made a bland
statement in parliament registering India’s ‘grave concern’ over the
suppression of the people of ‘East Pakistan’. He expressed the hope
that ‘even at this late stage it would be possible to resume
democratic processes leading to the fulfilment of the aspirations of
the vast majority of the people there’.
The statement failed to respond to the mood in parliament. The
respected veteran Member of Parliament Hiren Mukherjee derided it
as ‘lifeless’. Other leading parliamentarians called upon the
government to raise the issue at the UN, to extend formal recognition
to ‘Bangladesh’, and even to blockade Chittagong port to prevent
Pakistan from reinforcing its troops. Mrs Gandhi took the floor to
calm down the agitated members. She said the latest developments
had belied hopes of a ‘new situation in our neighbouring country
which would help us to get closer’. Assuring members that the
government ‘fully share the agony, the emotions of the House and
their deep concern’, she appealed to them to understand that ‘we
have to follow proper international norms’, and that ‘in a serious
moment like this, the less we, as a Government say, I think the better
it is at this moment’. Significantly, she spoke of ‘East Bengal’, in
place of ‘East Pakistan’, indicating a neutral position on the question
of its status in relation to Pakistan.3
On 29 March, parliament unanimously adopted a resolution moved
by the prime minister, expressing its ‘profound sympathy and
solidarity with the people of East Bengal in their struggle for a
democratic way of life’.4
Indira Gandhi’s observation that India’s hopes of closer ties with
Pakistan had been belied by the latest developments and her
references to East Pakistan as ‘East Bengal’, indicate that she was a
step ahead of her advisers. She had quickly grasped the fact that the
brutal military crackdown launched on 25 March had delivered the
final death blow to Pakistan’s unity. She shared the sense of outrage
over the crackdown voiced by the members of parliament, but she
would not be pushed into premature action. Official policy
statements, such as the parliament resolution of 29 March,
eschewed any reference to an independent Bangladesh, expressing
support only for the democratic rights of the people of ‘East Bengal’.
Critically important details of the actual situation remained unclear
for several days after the crackdown. Wildly exaggerated and
contradictory reports poured in from across the border. There was
uncertainty about Mujib’s fate and his whereabouts, and of the plans
of other Awami League leaders. The fog of uncertainty shrouding the
latest events in East Bengal began to clear at the end of March, as
Awami League leaders and rebel military officers began to arrive at
the border. On 30 March, the Awami League general secretary,
Tajuddin Ahmed, who had earlier in the month approached Deputy
High Commissioner Sen Gupta seeking India’s cooperation for the
freedom movement, crossed the border into India. Taking Indian
border officials by surprise, Tajuddin immediately demanded a
meeting with Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. He met with the topmost
Border Security Force (BSF) officials, Inspector General Golak
Majumdar and Director General Rustomji, and persuaded them to fly
him to New Delhi.

A historic meeting
In the first week of April, Tajuddin had two secret meetings with the
Indian prime minister. Realizing that an appeal from an individual
Bangladesh political figure would have little impact, Tajuddin
concocted the story that a declaration of independence had been
made immediately after the commencement of the crackdown and
that Mujib had formed a government constituted of members of the
Awami League Working Committee. This daring claim was made at a
time when Tajuddin had yet to re-establish contact with other
members of the Working Committee after the crackdown.
Providentially, while these talks were in progress, Indian intelligence
sources reported that rebel East Bengal military officers had met in
Teliapara, near the Indian border, and had resolved to form a central
command for conducting the war of liberation. The rebel officers also
called upon political leaders to immediately form a government.
Tajuddin’s total dedication to the cause of an independent
Bangladesh made a deep impression on the Indian prime minister.
She gave an assurance to Tajuddin that India would provide asylum
to the freedom fighters and that they could operate without let or
hindrance from Indian soil. She also offered a general assurance of
broader assistance, but did not specify its nature or scale, and she
made no reference to military support. However, Tajuddin surmised
that her initial assurances would grow to encompass comprehensive
political and military support if Pakistan refused to end the
crackdown and if the liberation war was properly directed.5 The
Awami League leader had correctly read Mrs Gandhi’s mind.
The historic importance of the talks between Tajuddin and Indira
Gandhi can hardly be overestimated. By early April, the Indian
government had shed all vestigial hopes of a transition to democracy
in Pakistan. It was clear that the Pakistani military was determined to
persist with its policy of brutal subjugation of the people of East
Bengal and that the latter were resolved to take up arms to achieve
an independent Bangladesh. It was of vital importance to India that
the liberation war should achieve success in a short duration, before
control of the armed struggle passed into the hands of extreme leftist
groups linked to China or the Indian Naxalites. Tajuddin impressed
his interlocutors with his unshakeable dedication to the Bangladesh
cause, displaying also the leadership qualities required to guide the
liberation struggle in the absence of the Bangabandhu.
As promised by Mrs Gandhi, Tajuddin was enabled to run his
operations from ‘Mujibnagar’ (actually Kolkata). Premises for a
secretariat were provided in No. 8, Theatre Road (now Shakespeare
Sarani), together with the necessary financial and logistics support.
A radio transmitter was provided for broadcasts from Swadhin
Bangla Betar Kendra (Radio Free Bangladesh). RAW helped
establish clandestine contacts between Mujibnagar and Bengali
personnel in Pakistani diplomatic missions, generating an impressive
flow of intelligence.
On 12 April, just days after Tajuddin’s meetings with Indira Gandhi,
New Delhi adopted a plan named ‘Operation Jackpot’. Its broad
objective was:
To build up the strength of Bangla Desh Forces to keep West Pakistani
forces tied down in a running struggle and to consolidate their hold on
peripheral territories with a view to roll West Pak forces back and
administer a crushing blow with such open assistances as may be needed
eventually. 6
In the next few weeks, India took a number of policy decisions,
which in their totality constituted a grand strategy to assist the birth
of an independent Bangladesh and secure speedy recognition of the
new state by the international community. These decisions
encompassed assistance to a government-in-exile, asylum for the
torrent of refugees fleeing the place, mobilization of resources for
their sustenance, a slew of diplomatic initiatives, training and
equipping of freedom fighters, and military plans for Indian
intervention at the final stage. All the resources of the state – military,
political and economic – were mobilized to serve the national aim.

Nature of the challenge


Stung by public criticism of the government’s ‘inaction’, some of Mrs
Gandhi’s cabinet colleagues were asking for immediate military
intervention in April. To silence them, the prime minister asked the
army chief, Gen. Sam Manekshaw, for his opinion, knowing full well
that he would need time to prepare for a major unplanned
contingency.7 Failing to see through the prime minister’s political
ploy, Manekshaw, a gifted raconteur, circulated a colourful tale about
how he had restrained Mrs Gandhi from ordering the Indian army to
march into East Pakistan in April. The true reason for the
government’s decision have been spelled out by Maj. Gen.
Sukhwant Singh, who served as deputy director of military
operations in 1971. Sukhwant Singh recollects:
. . . political compulsions clinched the issue [of timing] . . . if the creation of
an independent Bangladesh was achieved by Indian military action, how
was its domestic and external viability to be assured without its recognition
by the international forum, the United Nations? If India intervened without
clearly justifying the action in foreign eyes, the charge that it was
engineering the break-up of Pakistan would be established and
Bangladesh would be refused recognition by the majority of nations.8
As we noted earlier, within hours after news of the crackdown in
East Bengal reached New Delhi, the prime minister’s principal
adviser, P.N. Haksar, had cautioned her that most countries would
view Indian intervention at that early stage as unwarranted
interference in Pakistan’s internal affairs. He had emphasized that
the Awami League leaders would have to establish their legitimacy
through a successful revolt, culminating in control of the territory of
Bangladesh – or, at least, the greater part of the territory – before
they could expect international recognition as an independent state.
Haksar made sure that these factors were understood by ministers
and influential members of parliament across the political spectrum.
When the prime minister met opposition leaders in early May, he
urged her to explain matters to them: ‘We cannot, at the present
stage, contemplate armed intervention at all . . . It would evoke
hostile reactions from all over the world and all the sympathy and
support which the Bangla Desh [sic] has been able to evoke in the
world will be drowned in [an] Indo-Pak conflict.’9
A precipitate march into East Bengal would not have served the
higher political aim of securing international recognition for
Bangladesh. In the Cold War period, the principles of non-
interference in internal affairs and the territorial integrity of states
were deeply embedded in international law and practice. (The
contending principle of humanitarian intervention gained international
acceptance only after the end of the Cold War and the collapse of
the Soviet Union, when the United States and its allies enjoyed a
period of unchallenged supremacy.) As Haksar cautioned, an Indian
military intervention in East Bengal in April 1971 would have been
condemned by the international community as an unprovoked
invasion. Without the assured support of a superpower, it would
almost certainly have precipitated a UN Security Council resolution
demanding immediate withdrawal. To appreciate the magnitude of
the political challenge in 1971, we must recall that since the end of
World War II, no secessionist movement had succeeded in breaking
up a sovereign state. Katanga and Biafra provided vivid illustrations.
The principle of territorial integrity posed a formidable obstacle,
which could only be overcome if a rebellion succeeded in
establishing control of the territory it claimed.

Elements of a Grand Strategy: Support for the


Freedom Fighters
Operation Jackpot was put in motion by the end of April. The BSF
had been informally providing such assistance as it could to the
freedom fighters since 26 March. In view of the massive scale on
which assistance was required for implementation of Operation
Jackpot, it was decided on 30 April to transfer the task to the Indian
army and to place BSF units in the border areas under the army’s
operational command. The army was tasked to train and equip
20,000 freedom fighters initially, and later raise the number to
1,00,000, if necessary. It was envisaged that the guerrilla operations
would evolve through three stages. In stage one, the operations
would be restricted to selected targets in areas where the Pakistani
forces either did not have a presence, or where the state of
communications prevented them from reacting in time. In stage two,
the guerrillas were to attack Pakistani border outposts, patrols and
convoys, and carry out major acts of sabotage. Stage three was to
be the culminating stage, in which the guerrillas were to function as
‘formed troops’ cooperating with the Indian army in a war against
Pakistan. To begin with, the Indian army and BSF were to keep the
border ‘hotted up’ in order to tie down Pakistani forces. They were
also tasked to provide artillery and mortar fire support to Bangladeshi
freedom fighters attacking isolated Pakistani border outposts. Gen.
Manekshaw issued operational instructions along these lines to Lt
Gen J.S. Aurora, GOC-in-C, Eastern Command.10

Military planning
Planning for the final push was taken up in parallel with Operation
Jackpot. By the end of May, Chief of Staff of the Eastern Command,
Maj. Gen. (later Lt Gen.) J.F.R. Jacob, submitted a draft plan for the
final operations on behalf of the Eastern Command. It called for a
rapid advance on Dhaka, bypassing fortified towns, with the
subsidiary objective of destroying Pakistani command and control
centres en route. Jacob regarded Dhaka, the provincial capital, as
the ‘geopolitical and geostrategic heart of “East Pakistan”’.11 The
plan formulated by Army Headquarters (AHQ) at the end of July
drew substantially on Jacob’s draft but departed from it on the crucial
question of the principal target. Dhaka was not identified as the
principal target. Rather, the objective was to liberate most of the
territory, including the major ports – Chittagong and Khulna – thus
bottling up the Pakistani forces in a few garrison towns that were cut
off from supplies or replenishments. A siege would ensure
withdrawal of all Pakistani forces from Bangladesh.
The aim was to establish an independent Bangladesh state as
speedily as possible, in view of the possibility of a ceasefire imposed
by a Security Council resolution. (As we shall see later, on the eve of
the war, orders were issued to liberate the entire territory of
Bangladesh, following a Soviet offer of unconditional support in the
Security Council.)

Foreign policy
New Delhi’s military and diplomatic initiatives were closely
interrelated. Apart from promoting sympathy and support for the
Bangladesh cause in the international community, the principal tasks
of India’s foreign policy in 1971 were to create a legal case for
military intervention; to ensure timely supplies of military equipment;
to deter possible Chinese intervention in support of Pakistan; and to
prevent premature intervention by the Security Council before the
military operations had been successfully concluded.
In the circumstances prevailing in 1971, it was essential to gain the
support of at least one of the superpowers. Only this move would
ensure timely military supplies, deter possible Chinese military
moves on the border, and ensure that the Security Council did not
impose a premature ceasefire before the military objectives had
been achieved. The pursuit of these goals necessitated a major
adjustment of India’s foreign policy – entering into a Friendship
Treaty with the Soviet Union.
From the end of March, India had facilitated the widest possible
international press coverage of the brutal suppression of democracy
in East Pakistan and the savage violation of their human rights. The
aim was to win international sympathy for the liberation movement,
even if governments were reluctant to extend political support. Public
opinion would influence the policies of western democracies in
important ways during the war that would take place in December
1971; it would also expedite recognition of Bangladesh in the weeks
that followed.
While extending all possible support to the freedom struggle, the
Indian government refrained from explicit support of calls for an
independent Bangladesh, lest it should be charged with interference
in the internal affairs of Pakistan. New Delhi only called for a solution
acceptable to the freely elected representatives of the people.
India added a new dimension to this publicity campaign in the last
week of May. Pointing to the rising tide of refugees from East
Pakistan, it observed that Pakistan was ‘exporting’ its domestic
problem to India by driving the refugees across the border. The
repression in East Bengal was, therefore, not only an internal
problem of Pakistan; it had an international dimension, affecting
India’s internal security. This implied a responsibility on the part of
the international community to bring pressure on Pakistan to mend
its ways. The implicit message was that if the international
community failed to do its duty, India would be left with no option but
to take action in self-defence. This was an innovative doctrine,
designed to fill the legal lacuna we noted earlier.

Domestic policies
The strategic aim of ensuring the liberation of Bangladesh by the end
of the year was supported by a panoply of domestic measures.
While providing asylum to all refugees fleeing from the reign of terror
let loose by the Pakistani army, New Delhi was clear from the outset
that the refugees must return to their homes in an independent
Bangladesh. Therefore, in contrast to earlier cases of refugee
arrivals across India’s borders, the Bangladesh refugees were
concentrated in camps situated along the border, from which they
could be speedily repatriated. With one or two minor exceptions,
they were not shifted to other areas for resettlement (though,
inevitably, some refugees did melt away to join the informal labour
market in nearby areas). This policy was tacitly understood, right
from 25 March. It stood in sharp contrast to the approach generally
followed by India in respect of refugees from other neighbouring
countries.
The new policy carried a political risk. The increasingly heavy
concentration of refugees – whose numbers eventually reached an
estimated 10 million – in the border districts carried the risk of
tension and even conflict between the host communities and the
refugees. There are few parallels in history for the profound sense of
sympathy and solidarity with which the people of the border
provinces received the hapless refugees from East Bengal.
Nevertheless, as the stream of refugees rose to a tidal wave, the
pressures on living space and supplies of essential goods and
services carried the potential for discord. In the state of Tripura, the
refugees actually outnumbered the local inhabitants. The small town
of Bongaigaon in West Bengal, with a population of 5,000, received
no less than 3,00,000 refugees over just a few months!12 Against
this background, it was essential to ensure that goodwill – and, in
particular, communal harmony – between the host and guest
communities remained unimpaired. Strict instructions were issued
accordingly to the local authorities.
The refugee exodus from East Bengal in 1971 was among the
largest in recorded history. Providing shelter, food and basic
healthcare for this massive refugee population entailed a huge strain
on the budgetary and administrative resources of a developing
country like India. International aid covered only a modest part of the
total expenditure. No less than 1,500 refugee relief camps were set
up. Schools and public buildings were vacated to accommodate the
refugees. Fiscal planners had to somehow accommodate refugee
relief in an already stretched budget.
Though the military crackdown was directed against all supporters
of the Six-Point Demand, Hindus were a special target of the
Pakistan army. US Consul General Blood reported to the State
Department on 19 April 1971 that ‘. . . various members of the
American community have witnessed either burning down of Hindu
villages, Hindu enclaves in Dacca and shooting of Hindus attempting
[to] escape carnage, or have witnessed after-effects which are
visible throughout Dacca today’.13 This developed into an
undeclared military pogrom to drive out the Hindus from the
province. Bengali Muslims abhorred this slaughter, Blood reported.14
According to a CIA estimate, of the 8 million refugees who fled East
Bengal in September, as many as 6 million were Hindus.15 India was
anxious to ensure that this Pakistani provocation did not trigger
communal tensions in India. Under advice from New Delhi, state
governments and local authorities took special care to prevent
misperceptions and ensure communal peace and harmony.

Policy coordination
Under the prime minister’s instructions, a special committee of
secretaries was set up in April to monitor and coordinate policy on
these multiple political and economic fronts. The committee was
headed by Cabinet Secretary T. Swaminathan, and its core group
included Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul, Home Secretary Govind
Narain, Defence Secretary
K.B. Lall, Secretary to the Prime Minister P.N. Haksar and RAW
Director
R.N. Kao. The army chief and secretaries of other ministries were
invited to attend sessions focusing on their respective jurisdictions.16
Infused with a sense of urgency, the special committee functioned
with great efficiency. The speedy decision-making and flawless inter-
departmental coordination during the 1971 crisis stood in sharp
contrast to the stately pace at which government business was
usually conducted. A glimpse into the committee’s functioning is
provided by its last report before the outbreak of war.
On 28 November 1971, the special committee was in a position to
report that the ‘[moment] for decisive action has come’.
The defence ministry confirmed: ‘. . . as soon as a decision is
taken, the defence Services are in a position to secure the defeat
and surrender of the occupying forces in East Bengal in the shortest
possible time’.
Keeping in view the role of the UN, the MEA suggested: ‘[w]e
should provoke Pakistan into starting a war against us.’
The home ministry reported: ‘. . . [a]ll the States and particularly the
border States have confirmed that necessary measures for
maintenance of internal security have been taken . . . The need for
utmost vigilance to maintain communal peace has been impressed
upon the State Governments.’
The cabinet secretary reported: ‘. . . our foreign exchange reserves
are in a fairly comfortable position and no serious situation is likely to
emerge in the short term.’17
By the end of April, India had developed a comprehensive
approach encompassing all its national capabilities in the spheres of
defence, foreign policy, economy and internal security, in order to
achieve the goal of facilitating the emergence of Bangladesh as a
sovereign state recognized by the international community. This
grand strategy seamlessly combined military and political measures.
Its details were further elaborated or modified in light of the changing
situation, but its basic features remained intact. Implementation of its
diverse components was coordinated and monitored at the highest
official levels in the cabinet secretariat and the Prime Minister’s
Office. The outcome was a spectacular victory in the 1971 war,
facilitating the early entry of Bangladesh into the comity of nations.
4. Mujibnagar

Tajuddin Ahmed’s contribution to the liberation of Bangladesh is


second only to that of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. The charismatic
Mujib provided the inspiration for the freedom movement. Tajuddin,
the statesman and organizer, guided the struggle through its darkest
months to a triumphal conclusion.
In the second week of April, Tajuddin was able to re-establish
contact with other Awami League leaders. On his return to Kolkata
from New Delhi, Tajuddin met with the senior Awami League leader,
Kamaruzzaman, who had also arrived in the city. He then boarded a
Dakota aircraft placed at his disposal by the Indian authorities to
meet up with other Awami League leaders who had crossed into
India at various border points. Picking up Syed Nazrul Islam,
Mansoor Ali and Abdul Mannan en route, he arrived in Agartala on
11 April, where he found other senior Awami League members –
Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed and Col. Osmani – waiting for him.
Two days of discussion and argument followed.
Tajuddin was acutely conscious of the urgent need to rally the
masses and keep up the momentum of the popular resistance.
Without waiting for the outcome of his meeting with other Awami
League leaders, Tajuddin made a rousing broadcast from Agartala
on 11 April on a small radio transmitter supplied by the BSF.
Speaking in the name of the ‘President, Bangabandhu Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman, and the Government of the People’s Republic of
Bangladesh’, he saluted the people of Bangladesh, who ‘have joined
the ranks of the immortals among the freedom fighters of history’, . . .
‘To the world we were a peace-loving people, friendly, humane, fond
of music and dance, imbued with an awareness of culture and
beauty. War and violence were thought to be foreign to our nature.
But today whilst we remain true to our heritage, Bengalis have
shown that they are also a warrior people, with an unconquerable
will and courage to face an aggressor who enjoys overwhelming
superiority in the use of weapons . . . [today] a mighty army is being
formed around the nucleus of professional soldiers from the Bengal
Regiment and the E.P.R. [East Pakistan Rifles] . . . and now by
thousands of Awami League and other volunteers.’
He appealed to the international community to suspend arms
supplies to Pakistan, to provide arms for the liberation struggle, and
to extend recognition to Bangladesh. To his fellow countrymen living
abroad, he appealed for financial support for arms purchases for the
liberation army.1
The Awami League leaders assembled in Agartala finally reached
agreement on the constitution of a government on the lines proposed
by Tajuddin.2 It was decided to form a five-member government, led
by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman as president and comprising Syed Nazrul
Islam (vice president), Tajuddin Ahmed (prime minister), Khondaker
Mushtaque Ahmed, A.H.M. Kamaruzzaman and Capt. Mansoor Ali.
Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed was allotted the foreign affairs
portfolio. Col. Osmani was appointed commander-in-chief, with
cabinet rank. The swearing-in ceremony of the new government was
held in the presence of the Indian and foreign press on 17 April, in a
mango grove in the village of Baidyanathtala – renamed Mujibnagar
– in Bangladesh, just across the border from a BSF post. A
‘Proclamation of Independence Order’ was solemnly read out,
stating that Sheikh Mujib had ‘duly made a declaration of
independence at Dhaka on March 26, 1971’; that the elected
representatives of the people of Bangladesh had resolved to form a
government headed by Mujib; and that, in his absence, Syed Nazrul
Islam would serve as acting president. In order to lend credibility to
Tajuddin’s earlier broadcast of 11 April, the proclamation was pre-
dated 10 April. In the presence of Indian and foreign journalists, a
Mukti Bahini contingent presented a guard of honour to the acting
president.3
After the ceremony, the government-in-exile shifted back to
Kolkata, from where it conducted its operations. The ministers and
their families were provided accommodation in various parts of the
city. Tajuddin alone lived apart from his family in his office rooms,
working tirelessly round the clock. Col. Osmani also set up his
headquarters in the Theatre Road premises, spending his nights on
a camp cot in the office. The government-in-exile rapidly expanded
its activities, serviced by an office which soon grew into a full-fledged
secretariat with the arrival of personnel who had left their posts in
East Pakistan to seek refuge in India. Radio broadcasts over
Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra (Free Bangladesh Radio) had
commenced from Agartala as early as on 2 April, employing a small
transmitter supplied by the Indian authorities. This was soon
replaced by a medium wave transmitter, and regular broadcasts
commenced from Kolkata on 25 April.
With the defection of Bengali officers serving in Pakistani
diplomatic missions worldwide, Bangladesh was able to build up a
significant overseas presence. Two young diplomats serving in the
Pakistan High Commission in New Delhi, K.M. Shahabuddin and
Amjadul Huq, declared for Bangladesh as early as on 6 April. They
were followed on the 17 April by the Pakistan deputy high
commissioner in Kolkata, Hossain Ali, and other Bengali members of
his staff. On 26 April, Mahmud Ali, a young diplomat posted in New
York, became the first to declare for Bangladesh from a Pakistani
mission outside India. A steady stream of ‘defections’ followed from
other Pakistani diplomatic and consular offices, with some
communications and logistical assistance from Indian embassies.
Prominent Bangladeshis, such as Justice Abu Sayeed Chowdhury,
were appointed as special emissaries of the Mujibnagar government
to seek international sympathy and support for the liberation
struggle. Bangladeshi resident communities in foreign countries also
played an invaluable role in mobilizing international opinion.4 Many
Bengali diplomats who stayed on in Pakistani embassies contributed
to the movement by passing on valuable information to Mujibnagar.5
Thus, with Indian logistics and financial support, the Bangladesh
government-in-exile was able to quickly establish an effective civil
and military organization, as well as an unofficial presence in many
countries.

Problems of an émigré regime


Despite these early successes, Tajuddin had to steer the ship of the
state through stormy seas. Political exiles are subject to fits of doubt,
depression and despair over the uncertain prospects of returning to
their homeland. Many are haunted by the fear of being condemned
to a life in exile. Émigré regimes tend also to be riven by deep
personal jealousies and factional rivalries. Mujibnagar was no
exception.
By mid-May, the advancing Pakistani army regained control of all
the major towns in East Bengal. The last significant holdout, Belonia,
fell on 10 June. The Mukti Bahini was obliged to fall back behind the
Indian border and was left with virtually no presence on Bangladesh
soil. The deteriorating situation on the battleground caused anxiety
and despair among many exiles who had hoped for instant success.
Not a few suspected that India would let them down. Soon after the
swearing-in ceremony at Mujibnagar, Syed Nazrul Islam and
Tajuddin Ahmed, in their capacities of acting president and prime
minister, respectively, had addressed a formal letter to Indira Gandhi,
seeking immediate diplomatic recognition. The absence of a
response from the Indian prime minister caused much anxiety and
concern to many Awami League leaders, including some members
of the Mujibnagar cabinet. In a widely circulated report to Acting
President Syed Nazrul Islam, Awami League General Secretary
Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury complained bitterly of inadequate
Indian support for the Mukti Bahini and attacked Tajuddin for placing
his trust in India.6 Tajuddin remained unmoved. He never doubted
New Delhi’s intentions because he had grasped the fact that India’s
interests coincided with those of Bangladesh.
New Delhi was aware of the misgivings regarding its intentions. In
mid-May, the acting president of Bangladesh, all cabinet ministers
and Col. Osmani were invited to New Delhi for a meeting with Indira
Gandhi. Several ministers expressed concern over the lack of clarity
in India’s policy, in particular the absence of diplomatic recognition.
Responding on behalf of the prime minister, Haksar asked whether
the absence of formal recognition had in any way hindered the
activities of the freedom fighters. Was the demand for recognition
based on the expectation that India would forthwith order its army to
march towards Dhaka? If so, he wished to dispel any such
expectation. These blunt words offered little comfort to the doubters
in the audience.7
Tajuddin’s assumption of the post of prime minister was resented
not only by prominent Awami League members who had not found a
cabinet berth (such as Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury) but also by his
senior cabinet colleagues, Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed and
Kamaruzzaman. Hossain Towfiq Imam, who had had a ringside view
of developments as cabinet secretary to the Mujibnagar government,
says that both Khondaker (who had served as co-president of the
Pakistan Awami League) and Kamaruzzaman (former general
secretary of the Pakistan Awami League) had claims to seniority
over Tajuddin in the party hierarchy. The mutual distrust between the
government-in-exile’s prime minister, Tajuddin, and its foreign
minister, Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed, ran so deep that the foreign
minister chose to operate from a separate location in the city.
Khondaker was kept out of most of Tajuddin’s important meetings
with the Indian prime minister and senior officials.8 The foreign
minister, on his part, had misgivings about Tajuddin’s policies,
including, in particular, his support for the Indo-Soviet Treaty.
Incredible though it may seem, Khondaker and his foreign secretary
believed that the treaty had adversely affected Soviet attitudes
towards Mujibnagar! As we shall see below, Khondaker established
links with US officials behind his prime minister’s back.
There were deep differences also between the cabinet and the
student leaders. The latter, as we saw earlier, were among the first to
raise the demand for full independence in early 1971. They had tried
hard to persuade Mujib to make an unambiguous declaration of
independence on 7 March. On 23 March, they had marched in
procession to Mujib’s residence to raise the Bangladesh flag. They
functioned as an autonomous power centre, reporting directly to
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. In April, the student leaders, led by Mujib’s
nephew Sheikh Fazlul Huq Moni, opposed the formation of the
government-in-exile. They demanded that the government be
dissolved and replaced by a Liberation Front or War Council in which
they could play a major role.
Tensions between the Mujibnagar cabinet and the student leaders
deepened when, in May, New Delhi decided to train and equip the
Mujib Bahini, drawn from members of the Awami League–affiliated
student group. The decision was taken in response to an earlier
secret appeal made by Mujib. In a message to the Indian authorities
shortly before his arrest on 26 March, Mujib had indicated that if he
were to meet his death at the hands of the Pakistani army, the five
student leaders – Sheikh Fazlul Huq Moni, Abdur Razzak, Tofail
Ahmed, Sirajul Alam Khan and Shahjahan Siraj – would carry on the
struggle as his ‘khalifas’ or true successors.9 This was interpreted to
mean that Mujib wanted the student leaders to play a major role in
the liberation war. New Delhi took the decision to train and equip the
Mujib Bahini after the proposal had been approved by the acting
president, Syed Nazrul Islam. The latter, however, did not consult
Tajuddin or Col. Osmani, both of whom were opposed to the creation
of a separate force outside the control of the Mujibnagar
government.10 The training of the Mujib Bahini was entrusted to
RAW and not to the Indian army, which was responsible for training
the Mukti Bahini commander-in-chief, Col. Osmani. The operations
of the Mujib Bahini, which functioned independently and without
coordination with the Mukti Bahini, drew strong criticism not only
from Osmani but also the Indian army. After several complaints from
Osmani, New Delhi did eventually try to persuade the student
leaders to function in coordination with the Mukti Bahini, but these
efforts met with only limited success.11
The persisting factional rivalries within the Mujibnagar government
were a cause of concern to the Indian government. An assembly of
the elected representatives of the people of Bangladesh had yet to
be convened. On 20 June, Asoke Ray, who now headed the external
affairs ministry liaison office in Kolkata, touched on this question in a
conversation with Tajuddin, hinting that the position of the
Mujibnagar government might be strengthened if its policies were
endorsed by the legislators – members of the national and provincial
assemblies – elected from East Bengal in 1970. The suggestion met
with Tajuddin’s approval. The first assembly of the elected
representatives of the people of Bangladesh was convened in the
town of Siliguri in West Bengal in early July.12
The Siliguri conference was held at a time when the fortunes of the
liberation war were still at a low ebb. A vast guerrilla army was being
raised, but major operations would be launched only after the
monsoons. Thus, at the Siliguri meeting, Tajuddin’s competence was
questioned and the Awami League general secretary, Mizanur
Rahman Chowdhury, called for his resignation. Col. Osmani came
under attack for the reverses suffered by the Mukti Bahini. Questions
were raised about India’s intentions, its failure to accord diplomatic
recognition to Bangladesh, and doubts were expressed as to its
continuing support. Foreign Minister Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed
seized the opportunity to fan discontent over Tajuddin’s performance
and at India’s intentions. Acting President Syed Nazrul Islam and
Prime Minister Tajuddin Ahmed rose to the challenge. Calling for
patience and fortitude, the acting president stated that he firmly
believed in the assurances received from India. He drew attention to
India’s help in organizing the massive Mukti Bahini training
programme, which had already commenced. Calling for patience, he
assured the audience that the results would become apparent in
three or four months. In another moving speech, Tajuddin
emphasized that the prerequisite for liberation was a capacity for
prolonged struggle and sacrifice. Dispelling doubts about the
outcome of the liberation war, he assured his audience that victory
was certain. His inspirational speech was received with thunderous
applause. The final outcome was an affirmation of confidence in the
government-in-exile.13

The United Front and Moscow


The government-in-exile formed in April was a single-party regime
composed exclusively of Awami League members. Indeed, all the
elected representatives of the people present on Indian soil
belonged to this party. However, all the major political parties in East
Bengal also declared their support for the Mujibnagar government.
These included the two branches of the National Awami Party (NAM)
led, respectively, by Prof. Muzaffar Ahmed (NAP-M) and Maulana
Bhashani (NAP-B), the pro-Soviet Communist Party of Bangladesh
(CPB), and the Bangladesh Congress Party. Prof. Muzaffar Ahmed
issued a statement declaring that the Mujibnagar government was
the ‘only legally constituted government of Bangladesh’ and calling
upon all ‘democratic and progressive’ nations to recognize and assist
the new state. Maulana Bhashani appealed to world leaders to
accord immediate recognition to Bangladesh and extend all possible
help to the government of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh. The
CPB, aware of the Awami League’s pro-west image, made a special
effort to explain to ‘fraternal parties’ the background of the liberation
war against a ‘ruthless and barbarous enemy armed to the teeth by
the imperialists and having the support of the Maoists of China’.14
With typical foresight, Tajuddin wanted right from the outset to
involve these parties in the liberation struggle by bringing them into a
United Front. Thus, in his broadcast on Swadhin Bangla Betar
Kendra on 11 April, he invited ‘all political leaders of all political
parties of Bangla Desh to join us in a united struggle against the
aggressor. Our struggle today rises above conventional political
boundaries and must be seen as the struggle of the 75 million
people of Bangla Desh for protecting their freedom.’15
At the end of May, Tajuddin sent his emissary, Mayeedul Hasan, to
New Delhi to sound out Haksar’s views on a United Front. He had in
mind, particularly, the role the CPB could play to dispel Soviet
misperceptions about the pro-west character of the Awami League.
The Awami League had long maintained close contacts with the
Indian and American missions in Dhaka, but it had had few
interactions with the Soviet mission. Haksar was very supportive,
and he encouraged the Mujibnagar authorities to establish regular
contact with the Soviet embassy in New Delhi.16
With India’s growing involvement in the Bangladesh liberation
struggle, Haksar saw the need for regular liaison at the ministerial
level. His choice fell on Durga Prasad Dhar, the suave, charming and
shrewd politician-diplomat who had been active in Kashmir politics
since 1946 and had been elected to successive terms in the state
legislature from 1951 to 1967. A close confidant of Indira Gandhi, he
was appointed as ambassador to the Soviet Union in 1969 and was
responsible for negotiating the Indo-Soviet Treaty. To provide a
suitable covering role for Dhar, who had just finished his term in
Moscow, Haksar proposed to appoint him as chairman of the ‘Policy
Planning Committee’ in the MEA, with the rank of minister of state.
The proposal was opposed by Foreign Minister Dinesh Singh, but
the minister was overruled by Indira Gandhi.17 Dhar took up his new
post immediately after the Indo-Soviet Treaty had been signed. In
the final analysis, implementation of the treaty would depend on the
extent of Soviet sympathy for the Bangladesh movement. Thus, in
addition to liaising with Mujibnagar, Dhar also took the initiative in
promoting mutual understanding between Moscow and Mujibnagar.
The question of a United Front assumed a new importance after
the conclusion of the Indo-Soviet Treaty. Tajuddin, who had been in
favour of a United Front even in April, realized that it had become all
the more important, in the context of the treaty, to draw the pro-
Soviet parties into a United Front. Initial soundings, however, elicited
an unenthusiastic response from the foreign minister, Khondaker
Mushtaque Ahmed. Tajuddin kept Haksar informed about the
position through an emissary.18 When Dhar visited Kolkata at the
end of August, he encouraged the Mujibnagar government to form a
United Front, explaining the importance of involving leftist parties for
mobilizing Soviet support. On 6 September, an eight-member
National Advisory Committee was formed, comprising Tajuddin,
Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed and two other ministers, as well as
the leaders of the NAP(M), NAP(B), CPB and Bangladesh Congress
parties.19
It remained to lift the ban on recruitment of CPB and NAP(M)
followers to the Mukti Bahini. Tajuddin’s envoy, Mayeedul Hasan,
had mooted this idea in a discussion with Dhar in August. When
Dhar visited Kolkata in September, prior to Indira Gandhi’s crucial
visit to Moscow, he informed Tajuddin that Mrs Gandhi hoped to
persuade the Soviet leaders that involvement in the Bangladesh
liberation war was in the nature of assistance to a ‘war of national
liberation’ (permissible in Soviet eyes), rather than interference in a
civil war and in the internal affairs of another state. Lifting the ban on
recruitment and induction of some left-wing elements in the Mukti
Bahini would help project an appropriate image in Moscow. As Col.
Osmani was not present in the city, Tajuddin sought the opinion of
the deputy chief of staff, Group Capt. A.K. Khondaker, before giving
his formal assent. Khondaker, who had an astute understanding of
the larger strategic picture, unhesitatingly supported the proposal.20
The Indo-Soviet Treaty was welcomed by Tajuddin, but not by his
foreign minister. The foreign secretary, Mahbubul Alam Chashi,
offered a curious assessment of the treaty, maintaining that the
Soviet position had actually become colder since the conclusion of
the treaty and that support was no longer readily forthcoming!21
Foreign Minister Khondaker’s distrust of the Indo-Soviet connection
and what he believed to be a growing leftist influence in Mujibnagar
was to precipitate a dramatic confrontation at the end of October.

Mrs Gandhi shows her hand


Till late October, Indira Gandhi had held her cards close to her chest.
Her government had made a herculean effort to provide shelter and
sustenance to millions of refugees. It had helped to train and equip
some 1,00,000 freedom fighters. It had provided all possible support
and assistance to the Mujibnagar government. The Mujibnagar
authorities were grateful to India for this support; yet many of them
nursed doubts and fears about the limits of New Delhi’s support.
Would India let them down when it came to the crunch? There were
deep misgivings about India’s continuing silence on the appeal for
diplomatic recognition and the absence of a clear indication of its
intentions regarding a decisive military intervention.
The clouds of doubt and despair were finally lifted when Acting
President Syed Nazrul Islam and Prime Minister Tajuddin Ahmed
met with Indira Gandhi on 22 October, on the eve of her tour of
Europe and the United States. For the first time, the Indian prime
minister revealed her hand to her Bangladeshi guests. She informed
them in the strictest confidence that her foreign tour was a final
attempt at persuading the international community to throw its weight
behind a peaceful and early solution to the Bangladesh problem.
She was not optimistic, however, about the outcome. Should this last
effort fail to produce the desired results, then a final solution would
have to be found through other means. This was the first
unambiguous indication given to the Mujibnagar government about
India’s ultimate intentions. New Delhi suffered some embarrassment
when the elated Nazrul Islam, unable to contain his excitement,
passed on the good news to several members of the Awami League
hierarchy!22
Joint planning for the final stage of the liberation war and post-war
reconstruction began in mid-November, after Mrs Gandhi’s return
from her tour of Europe and the United States. But before this could
be undertaken, it was necessary to deal with a security issue which
could potentially put the plans at risk.

Khondaker and the United States


New Delhi had been receiving intelligence reports for some time
concerning clandestine contacts between Khondaker Mushtaque
Ahmed and the US consulate general in Kolkata. The full details of
this shadowy affair have never been revealed, but declassified US
documents show that at the beginning of July, a man named Qazi
Zahurul Qaiyum approached a political officer of the US consulate in
Kolkata, claiming that he was acting on specific instructions from the
Bangladesh foreign minister. In two meetings with the political officer,
Qaiyum stated that some Awami League leaders feared the
devastating consequences of a war; they hoped for a peaceful
settlement, even if that meant a retreat from the demand for full
independence. He requested Washington to arrange a meeting
between representatives of the Awami League, Pakistan, the United
States and India. Qaiyum added that Mujib must be a participant in
the negotiations. Any agreement negotiated with Mujib would be
acceptable to the people of Bangladesh, even if it involved a
compromise with the demand for independence. Qaiyum said that if
the ground was prepared, Khondaker was ready to visit Pakistan for
talks.23
The White House rejected the condition regarding Mujib’s
participation as unrealistic (‘fat chance of Yahya agreeing,’
commented Kissinger) but it was interested in the possibility of direct
talks between Islamabad and the Awami League aimed at reaching
a settlement within the framework of united Pakistan. The Kolkata
office was accordingly instructed to meet discreetly with Khondaker
and probe the accuracy of Qaiyum’s account. Qaiyum, however, was
either unwilling or unable to arrange a direct meeting. He questioned
the need for a direct meeting and said that in any such meeting the
foreign minister would be obliged to reiterate the official demand for
full independence. Indeed, when the US consulate political officer
finally succeeded in meeting directly with Khondaker on 28
September, the latter asked for American intervention to arrange a
peaceful transition of East Pakistan into independent Bangladesh.
Side-stepping the US suggestion for direct talks between the Awami
League and Pakistan, Khondaker requested that Washington convey
the Awami League’s views to Islamabad. Khondaker did not report
this contact to his cabinet colleagues.
On instructions from Washington, the political officer made another
attempt to contact Khondaker in order to convey the US response –
which, of course, was to press him to enter into direct talks with
Pakistan. Khondaker, however, was not present in the city. In his
absence, the US official chose to meet Hossain Ali, of the
Bangladesh foreign office, to communicate Washington’s response
and request him to pass it on to Khondaker. Hossain Ali replied
cautiously that he would pass on the message to the acting
president and then – if necessary – to the foreign minister!24
This is what we learn from declassified US documents. Details
from Indian intelligence reports are not available. These
developments caused serious concern to Dhar, even though Asoke
Ray, the man on the spot in Kolkata, cautioned against reading too
much into Khondaker’s contacts with US officials.25
The fact that the foreign minister chose to conceal from his cabinet
colleagues his contact with the US official in September raises
questions about his intentions. Khondaker was known to have a
negative opinion about the Indo-Soviet Treaty and, more generally,
about what he saw as a left ward shift in Mujibnagar politics. His
preference for a US connection reflected an astonishing diplomatic
naivete, given the US stance in the Bangladesh crisis. This also
gave rise to questions about his commitment to a fully independent
Bangladesh. The foreign minister planned to be present at the UN
during the General Assembly session. Tajuddin was concerned that
Khondaker’s statements in New York might create confusion and
embarrassment for Mujibnagar.
New Delhi had not so far made an issue of Khondaker’s reported
secret contacts with US officials. At the end of October, however, as
the war drew near, the Indian authorities decided it was time to take
up the question with Mujibnagar. Mrs Gandhi had already shown her
hand to the Bangladesh leaders. The die had been cast and
preparatory moves for the final showdown had already begun. Unity
of aim and maintenance of absolute secrecy regarding joint plans
had become an absolute necessity for India’s national security. On
27 October, D.P. Dhar flew down to Kolkata to apprise Tajuddin of
India’s concerns. India and Bangladesh were about to begin joint
planning for the final stage of the liberation war. Could security be
guaranteed while Khondaker occupied the post of foreign minister?26
Tajuddin himself was in favour of dismissing Khondaker, but the
acting president, Syed Nazrul Islam, decided to simply shift the
offender to another cabinet post.27 From Hossain Ali’s report, Islam
must have had at least partial knowledge of Khondaker’s contacts,
but it is not clear how he interpreted these unauthorized initiatives.
The acting president also had to bear in mind the need for
maintaining party unity. In the event, Khondaker was shifted to
another ministry, while Abdus Salam Azad replaced him as foreign
minister. Khondaker’s associate, Foreign Secretary Mahbubul Alam
Chashi, was dismissed from office on disciplinary grounds.
With this, the decks were cleared for joint planning for a decisive
war.
5. Mukti Bahini

Pakistan’s Operation Searchlight sought to disarm and ‘neutralize’ all


Bengali military and paramilitary units as well as police personnel.
This was one of its objectives. To maintain maximum secrecy, senior
Pakistani army officers flew out from Dhaka by helicopter to
communicate these instructions directly to the local commanders.
However, in the charged atmosphere prevailing in East Pakistan in
the latter half of March 1971, Bengali officers had begun to suspect
that action would be taken against them. In Chittagong, Bengali
troops struck preemptively against West Pakistani personnel. In
many other areas, Bengali troops dispersed into the countryside
before the Pakistanis could move. They were joined by the civil
guards (ansars and mujahids) with some basic training in the use of
arms, and by large numbers of students and other youth anxious to
join the liberation war. They received enthusiastic support from the
local populace. Sangram Parishads (Struggle Committees) sprang
up all over the country to resist the Pakistani army in every possible
way. The Pakistani army was able to seize Dhaka, Chittagong and
other cantonments, but many towns and much of the countryside
remained outside their control at the end of March.
The liberation war began as a series of spontaneous and
uncoordinated local resistance actions. It was against this
background that a number of rebel East Bengal Regiment (EBR)
officers assembled on 4 April in the Teliapara tea estate in Sylhet,
just across the Indian border. They decided that the liberation war
should be conducted under a central military command and an
independent Bangladesh government. They chose as their military
commander Col. (Retd) Muhammad Ataul Goni Osmani, a highly
respected figure in the EBR and in EPR. Osmani, who had been
commissioned as an officer in the British Indian army during World
War II, had served in both these forces after the creation of Pakistan
and had acquired a reputation for championing Bengali interests. He
was a strong advocate of increasing military recruitment from the
eastern wing. When serving in the 1st East Bengal Regiment, he not
only introduced Bengali marching tunes, including Tagore songs, but
insisted that the daily situation reports be submitted in Bengali. This
enthusiasm for a secular Bengali culture did not endear him to his
West Pakistani superiors. After retiring from service, Osmani joined
the Awami League in 1970 and was elected to the National
Assembly at the end of the year. As the constitutional crisis
deepened in March 1971, Osmani acted as a channel of
communication between Bengali officers and Mujib.
Osmani was not easily recognizable in Teliapara. He had been
obliged to remove his signature handlebar moustache in order to
escape detection by the Pakistani army when he left Dhaka! Under
his guidance, the assembled officers drew up the Teliapara
Document, which outlined their initial plans for the liberation war.
This envisaged the raising of a large guerrilla force which would be
tasked with destroying Pakistani communications facilities, engage in
hit-and-run operations against isolated enemy outposts and convoys,
and also liquidate ‘collaborators’ of the enemy. Regular forces would
secure a ‘lodgement area’ or base, provide cover to the guerrillas
and launch direct attacks on Pakistani forces as soon as possible.
The size of the regular force would be raised partly by training new
recruits and partly by inducting the best elements of the paramilitary
and guerrilla forces. Indian assistance would be sought for the
liberation war.1
Shortly afterwards, the Mujibnagar government formally appointed
Osmani as the commander-in-chief of the liberation army, with the
rank of cabinet minister. The appointment, in effect, fixed an official
seal of approval on the Teliapara action programme. On 18 April, the
Mujibnagar cabinet formally ‘. . . decided that adequate arrangement
[sic] should be made by the C-in-C in conjunction with the supporting
[Indian] authorities for training of students and youth for various
operational tasks in Bangladesh’.2

Operation Jackpot
On arriving at the border, rebel EBR and EPR officers approached
India’s BSF for assistance. The BSF director general, K.F. Rustomji,
sought the prime minister’s instructions and was advised that he
could go ahead but that he must not be found out!3 Accordingly, the
BSF provided such limited assistance as it could to the freedom
fighters in the shape of arms and ammunition. In several cases, it
also gave protective cover to Mukti Bahini operations, even crossing
the border on occasion.
After Tajuddin’s meeting with Prime Minister Gandhi and the
formation of the Mujibnagar government in April, New Delhi decided
to extend massive assistance to the Mukti Bahini. In view of the
limited resources available to the BSF, the responsibility for training
and equipping the freedom fighters was assigned to the army on 30
April. Accordingly, in May, Gen. Manekshaw issued instructions to
the GOC-in-C, Eastern Command, Lt Gen. Aurora, to raise and
equip a guerrilla force in cooperation with the Mujibnagar authorities.
The plan, Operation Jackpot, envisaged that the guerrilla operations
would develop in three stages.
In Stage 1, guerrilla operations were to be restricted to selected
targets where the Pakistani army was not present, or where they
would be unable to react in time for lack of communications. The
objective was to disperse the Pakistani forces engaged in protective
tasks. At this stage, the Indian army and the BSF, in conjunction with
the Bangladesh forces, were to keep the border ‘hotted up’, in order
to tie down Pakistani troops. Isolated Pakistani border outposts
might also be eliminated by artillery and mortar fire, where Pakistani
forces were not in a position to retaliate.
Stage 2 was in the nature of an extension of the first stage.
Guerrilla forces were to be regrouped into smaller units capable of
attacking border outposts, patrols and convoys. In addition, they
were also to carry out large-scale sabotage operations, destroying
rail, road and inland water transport infrastructure, with the aim of
isolating Pakistani forces posted in forward areas from their main
support areas, such as cantonments and other troop concentrations.
Guerrilla units would have to be inducted inside Bangladesh, at safe
havens where local support was available. Selected students were to
be trained to lead these operations inside Bangladesh.
In Stage 3, the culminating stage of the campaign, the guerrillas
would function as formed bodies of troops in the event of a war with
Pakistan. This stage would see an intensification of sabotage
operations targeted specifically at installations located in the major
towns of Jessore, Rajshahi, Dhaka, Mymensingh, Sylhet, Rangpur
and Dinajpur.4
The Indian army had originally envisaged training around 8,000
guerrillas through a three-month course. An additional period of
specialized training was envisaged for the leaders. However, the
Mujibnagar authorities pressed for a far larger force; they felt that a
short three-week training course would meet the requirement.5 Thus,
the strength of the guerrilla force was placed at 20,000,6 subject to
expansion as required. In view of the emergent situation, the training
period had to be limited to a mere four weeks. In the event, due to
pressing demands from Mujibnagar, the intake was stepped up in
July to 12,000 per month, and increased further in September to
20,000 per month; and the training period was reduced to three
weeks. By the end of October, the Mukti Bahini guerrillas numbered
over 61,000, and another 6,000 had been inducted into the Mujib
Bahini commanded by the student leaders.7 Under constant
pressure from Mujibnagar, the number of Mukti Bahini – regulars and
guerrillas – trained by India rose progressively to around 1,00,000 by
the end of November. This was a considerable achievement in a six-
month period, but a price had to be paid in terms of quality, as the
training period had to be cut short. In retrospect, Manekshaw said, ‘.
. . a more careful assessment ought to have been made by me of the
numbers that could be properly trained and effectively used during
the available six months’.8
The bulk of the guerrilla force was drawn from the ranks of
students and other youth. To facilitate recruitment, youth camps were
set up separately from the main refugee camps. Recruits were
politically screened by Awami League representatives, but from late
September, volunteers cleared by the pro-Soviet parties – the
National Awami Party (M) and the Communist Party of Bangladesh –
were also inducted as freedom fighters.9 Special care was taken to
exclude volunteers who might have links to Naxalite or pro-Chinese
extremist groups. The Indian authorities were always conscious of
the possibility that weapons supplied to the guerrillas might end up in
Naxalite hands or in the clandestine arms market.
An important development was the raising in mid-May of a force of
frogmen for sabotage operations to disrupt sea and inland river
transport. Very early in the day, Tajuddin and Osmani appreciated
the importance of these operations in the riverine terrain of
Bangladesh. An Indian naval team under Lt Cdr Samant was
responsible for training the force, which constituted the fledgling
Bangladesh navy. Samant led from the front in operations within
Bangladesh and would be awarded the Maha Vir Chakra for his role
in 1971.10
In October, a small Bangladesh Air Force was established under
Group Captain A.K. Khondaker. Their assets consisted of two aircraft
(a Dakota and an Otter) and two helicopters.11
It is clear from Manekshaw’s directive that India planned for a short
guerrilla campaign, not a full-fledged drawn-out guerrilla war. India
feared that in a prolonged guerrilla war, leadership would pass into
the hands of pro-Naxalite and pro-Chinese elements. New Delhi
planned the guerrilla operations as a short-duration strategy aimed
at preparing favourable conditions for a quick and decisive
conventional campaign. The guerrillas would play their part by
destroying the communications and transportation infrastructure on
which the Pakistani army was dependent, by forcing dispersal of
Pakistani troops and isolating them from their support areas, and by
undermining the opponent’s morale. In the final stage of a classic
guerrilla war, the guerrillas convert themselves into a regular army. In
the last phase of the 1971 war, the guerrillas operated as an adjunct
or auxiliary to the regular forces of India and Bangladesh.

Mukti Bahini (April–June)


Manekshaw’s instructions were broadly consistent with the outline
plan formulated by the Mukti Bahini commanders at their Teliapara
meeting on 4 April, envisaging the raising of a large guerrilla force
tasked with disrupting Pakistani lines of communication, carrying out
hit-and-run operations on convoys and isolated posts, and
eliminating local collaborators of the Pakistani army.
In view of the time required for recruitment and training, the
guerrillas would be ready for operations only from the month of July,
after the commencement of the monsoon. This was an auspicious
season for commencing guerrilla actions: torrential rains and floods
impeded movement of regular troops during the monsoon. Till the
end of June, the Mukti Bahini forces were composed of regulars from
the EBR, lightly armed border security forces (EPR), police and other
law enforcement agencies (mujahids and ansars) who had some
training in the use of arms, and untrained students and other youth.
In the spontaneous uprising that erupted on 25 March, these
forces, actively assisted by the populace, had succeeded in seizing
control of several major towns and much of the countryside. The
Pakistani army had expected to be in control of the major urban
areas by 10 April, but it met with unexpectedly stiff resistance as it
fanned out from the cantonments to establish control over the major
cities and communication centres. The Mukti Bahini put up a gallant
defence against a far more powerful foe, but was compelled to fall
back step by step on every front. By mid-May, the major towns were
under Pakistani control. The last Mukti Bahini stronghold, Belonia,
fell on 10 June. With the loss of Belonia, the Mukti Bahini was left in
control of no more than a few square miles of territory along the
Indian border. Deprived of a base or ‘lodgement area’, the freedom
fighters retreated across the border to seek shelter and sanctuary in
India.
After this initial setback, the Mukti Bahini sector commanders
convened in Kolkata for a week, 10 June to 17 June, to take stock of
the situation and draw up a new strategy. The conference marked
the end of the first phase of the liberation war and the beginning of
its second phase. The first phase saw a conventional war between
two vastly unequal forces. It was a war for control of territory, in
which the Mukti Bahini, the weaker conventional force, was
compelled step by step to retreat and finally seek sanctuary on
Indian soil. The guerrilla force being trained would be ready for
induction within a month. The Mukti Bahini was about to emerge as a
composite force comprising both conventional forces (Nyomito
Bahini) and a vast guerrilla force (Gono Bahini). How was this
composite force to be organized? What tasks should be assigned to
the Nyomito Bahini and Gono Bahini respectively? These basic
questions needed to be resolved before the liberation war entered
the next phase.
Inevitably, the commander-in-chief, Osmani, came in for criticism.
On the eve of the Kolkata conference, a proposal was mooted to
create a War Council composed of the sector commanders and to
kick Osmani upstairs as defence minister, divesting him of the post
of commander-in chief. Some commanders openly charged him with
failing to coordinate operations from his Kolkata headquarters.
Osmani saw the proposal for a War Council as an expression of a
lack of confidence in his leadership and submitted his resignation. It
was Tajuddin who saved the situation by persuading the
commander-in-chief to withdraw his resignation and to chair the
conference.
The Kolkata conference took a major step towards integrating
guerrilla warfare in the strategy of the liberation war. This had
become possible because the first batch of guerrilla trainees would
soon be ready for induction. The conference decided to divide the
battle-front into eleven clearly defined sectors. Each sector would
organize guerrilla bases in its assigned territory. The ‘sector troops’
(mainly paramilitary EPR) were tasked to provide support to the
guerrilla operations. Leadership at these bases would be provided by
a small number of EBR regulars from the Nyomito Bahini
(conventional forces), assisted by a political adviser to motivate the
populace. The aim of guerrilla operations was to disrupt
communications and logistics facilities, conduct economic warfare by
destroying warehouses for export products in order to deny foreign
exchange revenues to the Pakistani regime, conduct psychological
warfare to break enemy morale, gather intelligence, and rouse public
opinion against collaborators and eliminate them, if necessary.12
Osmani’s critics accused him of having failed to coordinate Mukti
Bahini operations from his headquarters in Kolkata and to arrange
adequate supplies of arms and ammunition for the freedom fighters.
He, in turn, held Lt Gen. Aurora responsible on this account.
Tajuddin shared Osmani’s concern. On 3 August, they conveyed
their complaints to New Delhi through RAW channels. In a three-
hour meeting with RAW Joint Director P.N. Banerji, Osmani and
Tajuddin listed their complaints against Aurora. Osmani said that
arms and ammunition were not being supplied to them on the
required scale. (Osmani’s demands were evidently based on the
somewhat more generous scale on which the Pakistan army was
equipped, in comparison to Indian army units.) The Bangladesh C-in-
C complained that a proper operation room had not been set up for
him, neither had he been provided with the communication and air
transport facilities required for overseeing and coordinating
operations in different sectors. This had given rise to dissatisfaction
and discontent in the Bangladesh forces. Osmani also complained of
interference in the conduct of operations, which bred indiscipline and
disrespect for the C-in-C. Tajuddin emphasized that these problems
had given rise to a great deal of unfair criticism against Osmani in
the Bangladesh forces as well as in the Awami League.13
Whatever the merits of these complaints, it was evident that
Osmani felt slighted by Aurora. All those who came into contact with
Osmani were impressed by his integrity and deep dedication to the
cause of an independent Bangladesh. Shunning every comfort, he
led an austere life, sleeping on a camp cot in his office. Yet he could
be touchy on matters of protocol. Osmani’s predicament was that, as
a colonel, he was outranked by the Indian generals whom he had to
deal with, while he, understandably, insisted on being treated as a
commander-in-chief, even though Bangladesh had yet to gain
recognition as a sovereign state. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh recalls
an occasion when Osmani’s plane circled over an airfield for about
ten minutes till the Indian army commander he was to meet had
arrived at the airfield to receive him.14
Mukti Bahini (July –September)
The first batch of 110 newly trained guerrillas was infiltrated into
Bangladesh in July.15 As planned, Indian troops provided artillery
cover to facilitate this infiltration of the freedom fighters. According to
an Indian estimate, almost 50 per cent of the Pakistani border
outposts were neutralized by the end of July.16 In the same month,
Maj. Gen. (later Lt Gen.) B.N. Sarkar, an officer known for his fervent
espousal of the Bangladesh cause, was appointed director of military
operations (DMO), Eastern Command, and assigned the task of
coordination with Bangladesh Forces Headquarters. Sarkar’s
appointment helped alleviate the personality conflicts between
Osmani and Aurora. Tactful by nature and able to communicate with
his Bangladeshi colleagues in their common mother tongue, Sarkar
was able to develop a rapport with the Mukti Bahini leadership. The
Bangladesh Forces Headquarters had not so far issued specific
operational directives to the sector forces. In August, Sarkar
instituted a system of regular meetings with the concerned
Bangladeshi officers to jointly draw up monthly targets for Mukti
Bahini operations. These targets were then circulated to the
Bangladeshi sector commanders by Col. Osmani and to the
concerned Indian officers by the Eastern Command.17
The initial guerrilla operations in July produced indifferent results.
The Pakistan army’s confidence about the success of its
‘pacification’ drive remained unshaken. It expected to resolve the
internal security problem and to restore road, rail and riverine
communications well before India was able to position itself to launch
a military offensive.18 However, after a shaky start, the guerrilla
operations gradually gathered tempo, and by September Osmani
was able to claim some spectacular successes. Culverts and bridges
were blown up, disrupting Pakistani communications, and ambushes
were carried out successfully. According to Lt Gen. Jacob, these
operations were beginning to have an effect on Pakistani morale. In
Manekshaw’s assessment, by September the principal aim of the
guerrilla operations – that is ‘the creation of conditions in BANGLA
DESH whereby operations by regular troops would be facilitated’ –
was being achieved, though not to the desired extent.19 Guerrilla
recruitment was raised in July to 12,000, and in September to 20,000
per month. To cope with demands for a further increase, the training
period was reduced to three weeks from August onwards.
At the end of September, Osmani carried out a critical review of
Mukti Bahini operations and drew up a new operational plan – ‘. . .
though we have inflicted a degree of damage on the enemy, it is far
short of what we should have achieved’, was his general
assessment. The aim of the operations had been to liberate and hold
a ‘lodgement area’. Excessive reliance had been placed on the role
of regular army formations for the launch of an offensive to liberate
and hold a ‘lodgement area’ or secure base within Bangladesh, from
where a major offensive could be launched. This aim was to be
achieved principally by regular army formations. With this aim in
view, a brigade had been raised from three understrength East
Bengal battalions by milking the paramilitary East Pakistan Rifles
and the best elements among the mujahids and ansars. This
approach had proved unrealistic. ‘Without armour, it [the regular
army] is incapable of launching major offensives and therefore, the
thought of liberating a lodgement area and to hold it, is not
practicable.’ The milking of ‘sector troops’ had only weakened them,
while the EBR brigade could not be effectively utilized.
Osmani concluded:
. . . we have to base our war strategy primarily on the unconventional war.
It is therefore essential that the guerrilla ops is accorded the highest priority
. . . Considering the limited time available at our disposal, we will be able to
achieve this by inducting our regular forces into Coy Pl groups along with
their commanders inside Bangladesh . . . This way, the guerrillas will be
able to increase our area of influence, thus gradually liberating larger areas
without resorting to set piece conventional battle . . . While the guerrillas
will operate inside we must keep the border alive with ops so that the
enemy is unable to pull out troops from the border for re-inforcement [sic]
inside against our guerrilla ops . . . [the] overall plan should be should be to
base our war strategy primarily on guerrilla ops.20
This review reflected the evolution of Osmani’s thinking on the
relative merits of conventional and non-conventional warfare. In
Stage 1 of the liberation war, he had favoured a conventional war,
with the guerrillas playing only a supporting role. Hence Jacob’s
criticism that Osmani’s ‘. . . views were orthodox. He wanted to
model his forces on the organization and tactics of the Pakistan
army. He had reservations on the raising and employment of
guerrilla forces, preferring to raise regular East Bengal Batallions,
and devoted more time to organizing and training them than the
Mukti Bahini’.21 On his part, Osmani complained that at the outset of
the liberation war itself Aurora had pressed for dismantling of the
EBR and EPR and retraining of the troops in guerrilla warfare.22
Against the background of the increased tempo of Mukti Bahini
operations, Pakistan revised its military plans for the defence of East
Pakistan in September. The previous plan, drawn up in 1970, did not
envisage defence of the entire East Pakistan border. The focus was
on the defence of Dhaka, which had to be held at all costs until a
massive offensive launched from West Pakistan brought India to the
negotiating table. The plan envisaged engaging the enemy along
three successive defensive lines in order to delay its progress till
succour arrived from the western wing. The new plan appears to
have been based on intelligence reports of the Mukti Bahini’s
intention of establishing liberated zones in border areas. It called for
a forward posture of defence based on border outposts, fortified
where necessary. The objective was to deny the Mukti Bahini control
of a territorial base that might provide justification for India’s
recognition of Bangladesh.23 The new forward posture entailed
redeployment of troops to the border from the Dhaka bowl and other
strongholds in the interior. This unwittingly served the Indian strategy
of drawing Pakistani troops to the border and weakening the
enemy’s interior defences and reserves, so that the India–
Bangladesh forces could bypass fortified defensive positions and
close in on Dhaka with maximum speed. It also facilitated an
impressive increase in Mukti Bahini guerrilla operations in the
interior.

Mukti Bahini (October–mid-November)


The Mukti Bahini achieved further successes in October. According
to a Pakistani account, ‘reliable estimates’ indicated that by October
the guerrillas had set off 497 explosions, attacking 188 government
offices and godowns (warehouses) and 281 police stations; 231
bridges had been destroyed or damaged, as well as 90 power
installations. There were frequent raids and ambushes on Pakistani
patrols and small bodies of troops.24
In his monthly report for October, Manekshaw noted with
satisfaction:
[The] tempo of guerrilla operations has picked up considerably . . . the
concentration of our regular troops on the India–BANGLA DESH border
has compelled the PAKISTAN army to move out from the interior . . . to the
border opposite us: this action of theirs has denuded the heartland of
BANGLA DESH of regular troops. This . . . will give the Freedom Fighters,
of whom an increasingly large number are being inducted, an excellent
opportunity to move about freely and hit targets wherever they should
choose to do so.25
As Mukti Bahini raids, sabotage actions and ambushes gathered
strength, the Pakistani army responded with artillery fire against the
guerrillas, often causing destruction on the Indian side of the border.
As a preventive measure, the Indian army was authorized in
September to respond with cross-border fire and to occupy border
areas from where the firing originated.26 With the intensification of
Mukti Bahini operations in October, the scale and intensity of the
Pakistani response registered a corresponding increase. With
increased shelling of Indian border posts by the Pakistani army,
Indian forces were permitted in November to go into Bangladesh
territory up to a distance of ten miles in order to silence Pakistani
artillery. In carrying out these instructions, the Indian army also took
care to secure specific positions that would improve its offensive
posture, with an eye on the impending war.27
This led in many cases to major conventional battles between
Indian and Pakistani troops, with the Mukti Bahini guerrillas playing a
supportive role. Thus, on 20 November 1971, Indian forces launched
a preliminary operation in the Boyra area, during the course of which
Pakistan lost fourteen tanks and three aircraft, apart from losses of
men. On orders from Manekshaw, an attack on the Pakistani
defences at the border town of Hilli was launched on 23 November.
In the heavy fighting that ensued, Indian losses included sixty-seven
killed and ninety wounded. Indian forces were able to register some
advances, but the Pakistanis held on to Hilli itself till 11 December –
the eighth day of the formal declaration of war.
In Jacob’s assessment:
The Pakistanis were thrown off balance and our strategy of drawing the
Pakistanis to the border began to work. We secured suitable jumping off
places, particularly where obstacles had to be crossed, and such
operations also gave our troops realistic initiation into battle.28
The stage was set for a swift victory in the war that was to follow in
December.
6. Military Plans

Critics have argued that India won the war in 1971, but lost the
peace because the Kashmir problem was left unresolved. This
misses the point that the political aims underlying India’s military
plans for the Bangladesh liberation war were not focused on
Kashmir. The 1971 war differed fundamentally from all other India–
Pakistan conflicts. Its core political objective was unrelated to
Kashmir or to any disputed territory such as the Rann of Kutch.
India’s objective was to bring the civil war in East Pakistan to an
early conclusion before it gravely endangered India’s own security.
For the first and only time, the principal theatre of a war between
India and Pakistan lay on the eastern – not the western – front.
Until March 1971, India’s military contingency plans had been
designed to respond to and repulse a Pakistani offensive in the west.
The Indian armed forces had no plans for a major war in East
Pakistan. Its contingency plans for the east envisaged only two
limited tasks: repulsion of a Pakistani attack in the Siliguri–Cooch
Behar (‘chicken’s neck’) corridor connecting the north-eastern states
with the rest of India; and defence of the city of Kolkata against aerial
bombing raids.1 Thus, planning for the Bangladesh liberation war
had to begin from scratch. India’s unpreparedness to fight a war in
East Pakistan is vividly illustrated by the fact that when the Eastern
Command began to draft operational plans in April, it discovered that
the maps of East Pakistan in its possession were over fifty years old,
dating back to the British Raj! One of the first tasks of the Eastern
Command was to obtain up-to-date maps from the Mukti Bahini.2
The Eastern Command previously had two principal tasks: to
protect the borders of India and Bhutan against possible Chinese
aggression; and to counter insurgencies in Nagaland, Manipur, the
Mizo Hills and, more recently, tackle the Naxalites in West Bengal.
On 19 April 1971, it was given the additional and urgent
responsibility of assisting the liberation of Bangladesh. The Eastern
Command lost no time in addressing its new responsibility. Within
the space of a month, it had not only commenced training and
equipping a guerrilla force but had also drawn up a draft plan for the
final push into East Bengal in November/December. The principal
architect of the plan was the chief of staff of the Eastern Command,
Maj. Gen. (later Lt Gen.) J.F.R. Jacob.
The plan was based on the following strategic outline.
(i) The final objective of the operations was to liberate Dhaka (which,
in Jacob’s words, was the ‘geopolitical and geostrategic heart of
East Pakistan’).
(ii) The thrust lines would isolate and bypass Pakistani forces in
order to race towards the final objective, Dhaka. Capturing towns
would be time-consuming and would entail heavy casualties.
(iii) Subsidiary objectives would be to seize communication centres
and to destroy Pakistani command and control capabilities, thus
disrupting Pakistan’s defence posture and forcing a retreat.
Fortified strongholds would be bypassed and dealt with later.
(iv) Preliminary operations would aim to draw out Pakistani forces to
the border, weakening the defence of key areas in the interior.3
The forces required for the purpose would be found partly from
within the resources available to the Eastern Command and partly by
additional allocations from other sectors. Since the operations were
planned for the winter months, when most of the Himalayan passes
would be snow-bound, some of the troops earmarked for defence of
the India-China border could be diverted to the East Pakistan front.
(Disagreements would arise later on the permissible extent of these
troop diversions.) Likewise, some of the troops involved in counter-
insurgency operations could be temporarily diverted for the
Bangladesh operations. AHQ indicated that 9 Infantry Division, 4
Mountain Division, 340 Mountain Brigade Group and a battalion
group of 50 Parachute Brigade would be allotted to the Eastern
Command.4
A radically different approach was proposed by the Western
Command. This envisaged liberating Bangladesh through a decisive
war in the western sector, with only holding operations in the East! Lt
Gen. K.P. Candeth, GOC-in-C, Western Command, argued that if the
Pakistani armed forces were decisively defeated in West Pakistan,
they would have no option but to surrender also in East Bengal,
where they would find themselves surrounded by a hostile
population and with no hope of reinforcements or supplies. The
proposal was turned down, since its aims went far beyond India’s
overall political objective. Manekshaw clarified to the army
commanders that it was no part of India’s policy to humiliate
Pakistan.5
AHQ drew up a draft plan in early July 1971. Its chief author was
the highly regarded DMO, Maj. Gen. K.K. Singh. The plan drew on
many elements of the draft received from Eastern Headquarters, but
differed from it on a crucial question. Dhaka was not listed as a
specific target. The main goals of the plan were to liberate the major
part of Bangladeshi territory, including the ports of Chittagong and
Khulna, and to facilitate the establishment of an independent
Bangladesh government in the liberated territory. The Indian army
was to join hands with the Mukti Bahini in the campaign. The DMO
was less sanguine than Jacob about the prospects of a frontal
assault on Dhaka within the time available. AHQ reasoned that the
Pakistani army could not hold on to Dhaka for long if it was denied
access to the ‘entry’ ports on which they depended for supplies and
reinforcements. The presence of Pakistani forces in the city and
other isolated outposts would thus become militarily unsustainable.6
The implicit assumption underlying the plan was that the war would
be brought to an end by a UN resolution before an unconditional
Pakistani surrender could be enforced in Dhaka. The aim, therefore,
was to occupy the major part of Bangladeshi territory, and to place
the Pakistani forces in an untenable position that would soon compel
them to withdraw from the rest of the territory.
The plan met the minimum requirements for attaining India’s
political aim. This was to speed up the emergence of an independent
Bangladesh, with the two fold objective of pre-empting pro-Chinese
and pro-Naxalite elements from taking over the leadership of the
Bangladesh liberation war, and of ensuring the voluntary return of
the refugees to their homeland. In conformity with international law,
recognition could be formally extended to a state that was in
effective control of the major part of its territory. Though highly
desirable, control of the capital city was not an essential requirement
for recognition. It was reasoned that Pakistan, denied access to
Chittagong and other ports, would in any case find itself compelled to
surrender the beleaguered city shortly after a UN-imposed ceasefire.
The draft plan was shared with the air force and navy at the end of
July 1971. Thereafter, in the first week of August, Army Chief of Staff
Gen. Manekshaw, accompanied by DMO Maj. Gen. K.K. Singh, flew
down to the Eastern Command Headquarters in Kolkata to discuss
the details of the plan with Lt Gen. Aurora and Maj. Gen. Jacob. Lt
Gen. Aurora was in agreement with the approach spelled out in the
AHQ draft plan, but it elicited a spirited protest from Maj. Gen. Jacob,
his chief of staff. Jacob argued that the task of denying Pakistan
access to Chittagong and Khulna (or the downstream ports of
Mangla/Chalna) could easily be accomplished by a naval blockade.
The task should, therefore, be allotted to the navy. Jacob pressed
the point that Dhaka was the ‘geopolitical heart of East Pakistan’ and
its ‘capture’ should be the key objective of army operations. He
dismissed the significance of Chittagong, which, he said, was ‘well
east of the main centre of gravity, almost peripheral’. Manekshaw
explained that Dhaka would automatically fall if Chittagong and
Khulna were liberated. Jacob remained unconvinced.7
Detailed planning began on the basis of the AHQ paper. War
games were conducted, and their lessons incorporated in the plan.
Close consultations were held between the three services to achieve
coordination. In addition to its standard roles of protecting the
coastline, sea lanes and merchant shipping and striking at Pakistani
naval and economic targets, the navy was specifically tasked with
imposing a blockade of East Pakistani ports. It was also tasked to
train Mukti Bahini naval personnel for mining and sabotage
operations. The role allotted to the navy called for a major
redeployment of assets from the Arabian Sea to the Bay of Bengal.
Despite protests from the navy’s Western Command, the aircraft
carrier INS Vikrant and INS Brahmaputra and INS Beas
were transferred to the Eastern Fleet.8 The Indian Air Force aimed to
achieve total air supremacy in the eastern theatre, while maintaining
sufficient reserves to meet a possible threat from China. The air
force was given the new task of accelerating the army’s advance by
providing transport aircraft and helicopters, particularly for major
river-crossing operations. Deficiencies in military equipment were
identified and steps were taken to obtain the requirements from the
Soviet Union in a timely manner. Transportation and military
infrastructure was strengthened on an impressive scale to facilitate
military operations.
An updated master plan was ready by October 1971. Its overall
aims were: (i) to assist the Mukti Bahini to liberate a part of East
Pakistan where the refugees could return to live under an
independent Bangladesh government; (b) to conduct offensive-
defensive operations in the western theatre to prevent Pakistan from
capturing Indian territory; and (c) to defend the northern border in the
event of Chinese intervention.9
The plan anticipated a powerful Pakistani attack on the western
front. It expected Pakistan to launch a concentrated attack on
Poonch and to attempt to disrupt the line of communication between
Pathankot and Jammu. Adequate forces were provided to meet the
first contingency. To counter the second move, the plan provided for
an Indian advance along two thrust lines – between the rivers
Basantar and Beas in the north, and from Thakurpur on the river
Ravi in the south. Further, with a view to consolidating India’s
defence positions, limited attacks were planned in Ladakh’s Shyok
valley and Kargil, and in the area lying west of Dera Baba Nanak
Bridge in Punjab. In the secondary southern sector, stretching from
Ganganagar in Rajasthan to the Arabian Sea, thrusts were planned
towards Rahim Yar Khan in the south of Pakistan’s Punjab province
and Naya Chor in Sind.
The primary targets, of course, lay on the eastern front, where the
aim was to liberate a major part of Bangladesh through a rapid
advance bypassing Pakistani strongholds, while ensuring their
isolation by seizing control of major communication centres. The
eastern front was divided into four sectors. In the north-western
sector, the army was to advance up to Bogra, the principal
communication centre, where Pakistani forces were to be tied down.
In the western sector, the main communication centres at Jessore
and Jhenida were to be liberated. In the eastern sector, the Meghna
bulge was to be liberated. In the northern sector, the army was to
advance along the Jamalpur–Tangail line.10 As in the earlier AHQ
plan, Dhaka was not identified as a specific aim, though the option
was left open for consideration, depending on the progress of the
campaign. The updated plan assigned to the navy the task of
blockading Chittagong and Khulna. This was based on an assurance
from the Indian navy that it would deny Pakistan access to these
ports.11 Aircraft based on INS Vikrant were to bomb Chittagong and
lay mines around ports in East Pakistan. The air force, as noted
earlier, was to ensure total command of East Pakistani airspace right
from the outset, and to provide support to army and navy operations.
It was also tasked to equip and train a fledgling Bangladesh Air
Force.
There were divergent opinions among the generals on the Dhaka
question. Even within the Directorate of Military Operations, there
were differences of opinion between DMO Maj. Gen. K.K. Singh and
his deputy, Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, who shared Jacob’s
conviction that Dhaka was a feasible goal. By September–October,
the balance of opinion among the generals began to shift in favour of
a march to Dhaka, even though this was not reflected in an updated
AHQ plan. Under Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh’s persuasion, Lt Gen.
Sagat Singh, commanding IV Corps, fell in with the idea. The story is
best told in Sukhwant Singh’s own words.
I suggested to Sagat Singh indirectly . . . ‘Why don’t you secure the
Brahmanbaria–Ashuganj area, and then the road to Dacca will open itself
for you to stage a triumphant march to the heart of Bangladesh polities
[politics?].’ ‘But that is not my task,’ he snapped back. ‘I’m only suggesting,’
I said with a smile. A glint came into his eyes . . . ‘Tell me, does India mean
business this time or are they wasting our time?’ he asked. Assured that
the government ‘meant business’ this time, Sagat Singh readily fell in with
the proposal.12
Jacob, on his part, discussed the liberation of Dhaka with Maj.
Gen. Gurbux Singh Gill, who commanded Headquarters 101
Communication Zone. The plan was to cross the Brahmaputra at
Jamalpur and to airdrop a battalion of paratroopers at Tangail in the
area controlled by the Bangladeshi freedom fighter Kader Siddiqui.
The two groups were to link up and advance to Dhaka, together with
Siddiqui’s forces. In order to meet Gill’s requirement of additional
troops for the task, it was intended to move two brigades from the
Himalayan border to the eastern theatre.13 Jacob informed the new
DMO, Maj. Gen. Inder Gill, about the plan and the intended move of
troops from the northern border. Gill concurred with Jacob’s plan.
‘Chief of Staff Eastern Command and I were quite clear about the
requirement and bent our efforts towards its accomplishment,’14 he
later recollected. Thus, well before the outbreak of the war, some of
the leading generals on the Indian side had in mind a detailed plan
that envisaged the liberation not only of the major part of Bangladesh
but also of its capital city, Dhaka.
At the end of November 1971, New Delhi received an
unambiguous assurance of Soviet support in the Security Council in
the event of war. Moscow had earlier been reluctant to directly
associate itself with an initiative that might be viewed as interference
in a Pakistani civil war. (The evolution of the Soviet position is traced
in Chapters 10 and 11.) The assurance of a Soviet veto meant that
some more time might be available for completion of military
operations, and it was now deemed feasible to liberate the whole of
Bangladesh within the time available. Accordingly, AHQ issued an
amendment to its earlier Operational Instruction, spelling out that the
revised objective of the Eastern Command was to liberate the whole
of Bangladesh. However, the amendment, which was received just a
few days before the war, came too late to allow formal alteration of
existing plans.15
India’s military plans were formulated and implemented in an
institutional framework that suffered from major flaws. The three
services had separate headquarters that functioned autonomously
and were not integrated with the defence ministry. Neither was there
an institutional platform for regular interaction between the chiefs of
staff and the principal civilian officers in the foreign, home and
finance ministries. These institutional deficiencies were partly
surmounted in 1971 through improvisation and informal coordination.
Manekshaw represented the service chiefs at the meetings chaired
by D.P. Dhar. The prime minister’s closest advisers, including Dhar,
Haksar and Kaul, also maintained regular informal contacts with
Manekshaw, who, in turn, kept the other service chiefs informed of
political developments.16
The defence ministry highlighted these interactions in its annual
report for 1971–72.
The interaction between the civil and military leaderships was continuous
and informal . . . As time passed, international, political and strategic
factors, the evaluation of which called for careful analysis, had an
increasingly important bearing on the choice of options open to us.
Consequently, the scale, pattern and timing of our defence preparedness
were, of necessity, to be coordinated with a number of external
developments.17
Coordination between the three services also reached
unprecedented levels. The defence ministry’s annual report stated:
The coordination among the Chiefs of Staff was reflected at the command
level and below. Based on our experience of 1965 operations, liaison
officers from the Air Force were stationed at the command level with
effective communication links with air formations and the operational
Command structure to enable effective operational coordination. Similar
coordination was achieved between the two Naval Commands and the
concerned Air Commands.18
Air Chief Marshal P.C. Lal confirms that the IAF ensured close
coordination with the army by locating an Advance Headquarters of
the Western and Eastern Air Commands alongside the
corresponding Army Command; a tactical Air Centre with each
Corps HQ; and Forward Air Controllers further down the field.19
Likewise, Vice Admiral Kohli, who headed the Western Naval
Command in 1971, has recorded the following:
A special feature of the preparatory stages was that, for the first time ever,
the Chiefs of Staff of the three services jointly examined in the minutest
detail the plans of the various commands of the three services. Like the
other Commanders-in-Chief I made my presentation which was subjected
to detailed scrutiny, and some very searching questions were asked about
the legal aspects of the blockade and contraband control and the effects it
would have on neutral and friendly merchant ships and their countries.20
The quantum leap in informal consultation and coordination stood
in sharp contrast to the experience of the 1965 war. Air Chief
Marshal Lal recalls that in 1965, the Chiefs of Staff Committee
mechanism was simply bypassed. Gen. Chaudhuri took the air chief
into confidence informally about his discussions with the prime
minister and defence minister, but the naval chief was excluded from
these meetings on the ground that the navy could play no more than
a modest role in the war. In 1965, no joint plans were prepared by
the three services. The air force and navy were not even asked to
define their respective roles in the event of war. As a result, there
were shortfalls in the close support to ground forces provided by the
IAF. Lal also makes the telling point that the absence of a joint navy-
air force plan for defending naval bases enabled the Pakistan Navy
in 1965 to bombard the Indian naval base in close proximity to the
IAF’s Jamnagar base.21
Thus, in 1971, coordination between the three services partly
compensated for the absence of an integrated defence structure.
Credit is due to the concerned military and civilian officers, but we
should not lose sight of the fact that it was possible to put these
informal or improvised arrangements in place only because several
months were available for preparation for the war. Moreover, the
improvisations could not completely close the gaps in coordination
caused by institutional deficiencies. Coordination between the chiefs
of staff and the leading civil servants was mostly effected through
informal meetings. The political dimension of policy was often
unclear to some others who should have been more fully in the
picture. Even the cerebral air chief, Lal, recalled later that he had
doubts in his mind about the objectives of the war.22 The spectacular
military success achieved in 1971 must not obscure the grave
deficiencies in India’s institutional structures, many of which persist
to this day.
7. Mobilizing World Opinion

(April–October 1971)

India’s diplomatic response to the Bangladesh crisis proceeded on


two parallel tracks: a general drive to mobilize the widest possible
international support for the cause of the people of ‘East Bengal’;
and the search for the support of a superpower in the expected
event of a war. This chapter is an account of India’s efforts on the
first track to mobilize international sympathy and support for the
victims of the reign of terror unleashed in East Bengal and to create
conditions there that would enable the refugees to return to their
homes.
India faced an uphill task in mobilizing international support for
Bangladesh. As Haksar had pointed out, the principles of non-
interference in the internal affairs of a sovereign state and the
territorial integrity of states were deeply entrenched in international
law and practice. Enshrined in Article 2 of the UN Charter, non-
intervention was a foundational principle of international law. The
doctrine of humanitarian intervention was yet to find a place in
international law. That doctrine was to gain international acceptance
in the closing decade of the century, when the collapse of the Soviet
Union and the east–west balance of power created an environment
in which it could be successfully invoked by the western powers. An
equally formidable obstacle was the principle of territorial integrity,
interpreted as excluding secession of any part of a sovereign state.
This principle found particularly strong support among the new Afro-
Asian states. Most of these comprised diverse linguistic, ethnic, tribal
and religious groups, and had yet to develop an overarching national
identity. They were still in the process of evolving into fully formed
modern nation-states. Many of them faced the spectre of
secessionism. In these countries, the principle of territorial integrity
was powerfully reinforced by what was perceived as the national
interest.
In the first two months of the crisis, the principal aim of India’s
diplomatic campaign was to focus the attention of the international
community on the massive violation of human rights and democratic
principles in ‘East Bengal’ and the urgent need for humanitarian
assistance to the refugees fleeing to India. It emphasized that
restoration of ‘normalcy’ was the essential condition for enabling the
refugees to return voluntarily to their homes. India appealed to the
international community to bring pressure on Pakistan to stop the
massacres and outrages against human rights and to restore
‘normalcy’ in ‘East Bengal’.
As the campaign unfolded, there was a seamless evolution of the
Indian position. By mid-May, ‘normalcy’ was being defined with
greater clarity, as a political settlement acceptable to the elected
representatives of the people of East Bengal, that is, to Mujib’s
Awami League. Before the end of May, as the number of refugees
approached the staggering figure of 3.5 million, another dimension
was added to the drive. India maintained that the repression in East
Bengal could no longer be regarded as a purely internal problem of
Pakistan. Pakistan was ‘exporting’ its internal problem to India by
driving millions of refugees across the border, thereby posing a
threat to India’s security and social stability. New Delhi maintained
that it was incumbent on the international community and, in
particular, the Great Powers, to help preserve peace in South Asia
by prevailing on Pakistan to find an early solution to its political
problem. This new line also implied that India had the right to act in
self-defence if the international community was unable or unwilling to
persuade Pakistan to halt the campaign of terror in East Bengal and
to reach an agreement with the elected representatives of the people
of East Bengal.
Thus, the Indian diplomatic campaign evolved from a simple
appeal based on human rights and provision of humanitarian
assistance to victims of human rights violations, to a broader
approach that also included a legal justification for intervention by
India and the international community. And finally, it included an
implied warning that India would be compelled to exercise its right of
self-defence if the international community failed in its duty to
persuade Pakistan to create conditions for the voluntary repatriation
of the refugees by working out a political settlement with the elected
representatives of the people of East Bengal.

End-March to early June, 1971


On 31 March, the Indian Parliament unanimously adopted a
resolution moved by the prime minister. This expressed ‘solidarity
with the people of East Bengal in their struggle for a democratic way
of life’, reiterated India’s commitment to the defence of human rights,
and called upon the international community ‘to prevail upon the
Government of Pakistan to put an end immediately to the systematic
decimation of people which amounts to genocide’.1 Following the
resolution, New Delhi launched a massive and sustained campaign
to focus the attention of the international community on the political
and human rights aspects of the savage military crackdown in ‘East
Bengal’.
India faced a herculean task. The principles of sovereignty and
territorial integrity of states were powerful barriers to international
involvement in this case. In the absence of an overriding national
interest, these legal principles were the default policy option for most
states. The problem was particularly acute in the case of the newly
independent Afro-Asian states, as mentioned earlier. Few of them
were democracies; many showed scant respect for human rights in
their own countries. Many of these new states faced the spectre of
secessionism in their own territories. This was particularly true of
sub-Saharan Africa, which had been carved up by the European
colonial powers in the latter half of the nineteenth century along
arbitrary boundary lines that cut across tribal and ethnic divisions. In
the decade before the launch of the Bangladesh liberation war,
Africa had witnessed abortive secessionist movements in Katanga
and Biafra. Ambassador Akwei of Ghana voiced the general
sentiment of the African Group at the United Nations on 7
December:
It is not for us to dictate to Pakistan what it should or should not do. We
have to respect the sovereignty and territorial integrity of every State
Member of this Organisation . . . The Organisation of African Unity knows
that once intervention in the affairs of a Member State is permitted, once
one permits oneself the higher wisdom of telling another Member State
what it should do with regard to arranging its own political affairs, one
opens a Pandora’s box. And no continent can suffer more than Africa when
such a principle is thwarted.2
India received a somewhat more sympathetic hearing in the
western democracies. The massacres in East Bengal and the plight
of the refugees received wide coverage in the major British,
American and continental newspapers and TV channels. NGOs
dedicated to human rights and humanitarian relief – Amnesty
International, Oxfam and Action Bangladesh, among many others –
were passionate advocates of the Bangladesh cause. A galaxy of
celebrities in the artistic world – including such musical megastars as
Ravi Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan, George Harrison, John Lennon, Bob
Dylan and Joan Baez, and men of letters like Andre Malraux and
Allen Ginsburg – appealed for support to Bangladesh. In an
illuminating survey, Srinath Raghavan points out that the late 1960s
saw the ‘emergence of a new form of humanitarianism that was self-
consciously transnational insofar as it refused to accept national
governments as the sole source of authority and aimed to address a
global audience’.3 Raghavan observes that in 1971, there were thus
two opposing trends at work: the new transnational humanitarianism
and the entrenched principle of non-interference in the domestic
affairs of a sovereign state. An advertisement inserted in the London
Times on 13 May by Action Bangladesh captured the new spirit. It
carried the caption ‘This Is the Moment to Show that Man is More
than “An Internal Problem”’.4
However, the new transnational humanitarianism was a significant
factor mainly in open democratic societies. It found little response in
the authoritarian states that accounted for a majority in the United
Nations. Furthermore, even in the democracies where it played a
major role in shaping public opinion, transnational humanitarianism
had yet to breach the wall of state sovereignty in 1971. None of the
western democracies issued an open condemnation of Pakistan, lest
it should be construed as interference in Pakistan’s internal affairs.
Even in Britain where, due to historical connections and the
presence of a large Bangladeshi immigrant community, public
sympathy for East Bengal was very strong, the government refrained
from public censure, contenting itself with appeals in confidential
communications for an end to the bloodshed and a return to
negotiations. On 7 April, Prime Minister Edward Heath wrote to Gen.
Yahya Khan, ‘There must be an end to bloodshed and the use of
force as soon as possible and a resumption of discussions. Political
leaders, who received such massive support, must at some stage
participate in these discussions.’5 Australia and New Zealand were
prepared to go one step further by voicing their views in public. Jack
Marshall, the acting prime minister of New Zealand, issued a
statement on 14 April, expressing his ‘earnest hope that the present
bloodshed in East Pakistan will soon cease and that with goodwill on
all sides Pakistan’s political and military leaders can renew their
attempt to reach agreement by negotiation and compromise’.6
Australia went further than any other western country, stopping just
short of an open condemnation that might be construed as
‘intervention’. Speaking in the Australian House of Representatives
on 22 April, Prime Minister McMahon expressed the ‘view’ that ‘ . . .
there should be no more loss of life’ and that ‘the leaders of the
Awami League should be given full authority civilly to represent their
people in the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan’.7
The Soviet Union was the only major power to respond positively to
India’s appeal in April. Though its message was couched in terms of
human rights, the Soviet position was primarily based on political
calculation. Hoping to draw India into a closer relationship, Moscow
had decided in 1970 to end its earlier policy of balancing its
presence in India and Pakistan. Thus, when the South Asian crisis
erupted in 1971, Moscow immediately threw its weight behind India.
On 2 April, President Podgorny wrote to Yahya Khan as a ‘true
friend’, to make an ‘insistent appeal’ for an immediate halt of the
‘bloodshed and repression against the population in East Pakistan
and for turning to methods of a peaceful political settlement’.
Podgorny said that the Soviet Union was guided by the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights and concern for the ‘friendly people of
Pakistan’.8 Significantly, the draft of the letter was shared with India
before its dispatch and its text was made public immediately after its
delivery to Islamabad.
India also received unexpected support from two states with which
it had yet to establish diplomatic ties – the German Democratic
Republic (GDR) and Israel. India maintained trade and consular ties
with GDR but had refrained from establishing diplomatic relations,
mindful of the sensitivities of the larger and more prosperous Federal
Republic of Germany (FRG). Under the Hallstein Doctrine, the FRG
proclaimed that it would regard recognition of the GDR by any
foreign state (other than the ‘occupying power’, USSR) as an
‘unfriendly act’, with the implied threat of terminating diplomatic ties
with that state. The GDR perceived an opportunity for expediting
diplomatic ties with India (and establishing ties with a new
Bangladesh state) in the South Asian crisis. Thus, in May, it
extended an invitation to the foreign minister of the Bangladesh
government-in-exile and received him with full protocol honours.
India had not established diplomatic ties with Israel, apprehensive
of Arab reactions. However, India had extended formal recognition to
the state of Israel as early as in 1950, whereas Pakistan had not.
Unlike Pakistan, which questioned the right of existence of the
Jewish state, India bore no animosity towards Israel, and the two
countries occasionally cooperated with each other through
clandestine channels. In 1962 and 1965, India had used these
channels to secure certain military supplies from Israel.
Towards the end of June, Israel issued a strongly worded
condemnation of the Pakistani ‘genocide’ in ‘East Bengal’. Speaking
in the Knesset, Foreign Minister Abba Eban condemned the ‘terrible
acts perpetrated by the Pakistani army in East Bengal’, which had
resulted in a ‘human tragedy amounting to genocide’. ‘The Jewish
people, which has suffered much sorrow and misery in its history,’ he
said, ‘must be especially aware of and sympathetic to human
suffering wherever it may be, and the State of Israel cannot stand
aside inactive, when faced with a disaster engulfing masses of
humanity.’9
These were not empty words. In August, India approached an
international arms dealer with close connections to Israel, Shlomo
Zabludowicz, in order to obtain urgently heavy mortars and
ammunition required for supporting Mukti Bahini cross-border
operations. The items were in short supply, and urgent deliveries
could be made only by releases from Israel Defence Force stocks
and by diverting production intended for Iran. Thanks to the
benevolent interest taken by Prime Minister Golda Meir, the Israeli
authorities provided the necessary clearances. The urgently required
items were airlifted to India.10

United Nations
India had no great expectations of the United Nations. Nevertheless,
on 29 March – within four days of the launch of Operation
Searchlight – Ambassador Samar Sen, India’s Permanent
Representative at the United Nations, handed over a note to UN
Secretary General U Thant, drawing his attention to the ‘brutality with
which the Pakistan army is suppressing the struggle for legitimate
rights and aspirations of the majority of the people of Pakistan’. The
note requested the secretary general to take an initiative to ‘stop the
mass butchery’, arrange for sending an International Red Cross
team to East Pakistan, and organize relief for the Bangladeshis who
had fled to India, given the ‘unexpected large-scale flight of refugees’
to the country. U Thant replied that he was confronted by two
‘insuperable obstacles’ – the insistence of member states that the
secretary general had no right to interfere in their internal affairs, and
‘lack of authoritative information’ concerning the situation. He
advised Sen to directly approach the International Red Cross.11
Thereupon, Sen circulated his demarche as a press release.
Sen, a highly skilled diplomat, could hardly have entertained any
expectation that the secretary general would take initiatives that
were certain to be viewed by Pakistan as interference in its internal
affairs. An appeal to Pakistan to end the ‘mass butchery’, or the
dispatch of an uninvited Red Cross team to the country, would
clearly have attracted a strong reaction from Pakistan. Nor could the
secretary general be expected to organize relief operations in India
for what was still a prospective problem, by Sen’s own account.
Sen’s real purpose was to give the widest possible publicity to the
Indian appeal, and he achieved this aim by circulating his demarche
as a press release.
As the stream of refugees turned into a torrent, the prospective
problem soon became a grim reality. On 23 April, India requested the
UN secretary general for international assistance to ease the
immense refugee burden which had been suddenly thrust on the
country as a result of the brutal Pakistani crackdown in East Bengal.
In response to the request, U Thant designated Prince Sadruddin
Aga Khan, the UN high commissioner for refugees, to act as the
‘focal point’ for relief operations by UN agencies in India and East
Pakistan. With the secretary general’s concurrence, Sadruddin
expanded his mandate to include a ‘good offices’ role for the
purpose of facilitating repatriation of the refugees. Sadruddin went to
great lengths to ensure that the relief operations involved no implicit
criticism of Pakistani actions. He determinedly turned a blind eye to
the political root cause of the refugee exodus, arguing that it ‘may be
difficult to assess what precisely made these people leave. There
may be people who are fleeing because they are afraid of famine . . .
it would be absolutely futile to determine whether or not people left
because of well-founded fear of persecution and therefore come
under the mandate [of the UN high commissioner for refugees].’
Replying to questions from the press as to whether the governments
he had contacted were prepared to intervene with Islamabad in order
to create an atmosphere of security that would enable the refugees
to return to their homes, the high commissioner replied: ‘There is one
fundamental problem: that is respect due to state sovereignty . . . It
is not for me to talk about any means which might be employed to
influence a sovereign government.’12 Sadruddin did not explain how
he could facilitate repatriation of the refugees without ascertaining
why they had fled from their homes in the first instance.
At the end of May, India drew the attention of the UN Economic and
Social Council to the ‘violation of human rights on an unprecedented
scale’ in ‘East Bengal’. ‘Unless . . . the international community is
prepared to examine violations of such obligations undertaken by
States and take whatever remedial measures may be necessary, all
that we have said for the protection of human rights and fundamental
freedoms becomes a mockery,’ declared Ambassador Sen. He
appealed to the international community to address the violation of
human rights in East Bengal, to call upon Pakistan to restore
normalcy, and to assist in humanitarian relief operations for the
refugees in India. He emphasized that the ‘. . .
subject is of international concern and international action alone will
solve it. It is not an Indo-Pakistan problem, although India is
immediately affected by the large influx of refugees.’13 Despite Sen’s
eloquent appeal, the UN Economic and Social Council kept its
attention narrowly focused on the question of humanitarian relief and
on the report submitted to the body by the UN high commissioner for
refugees.

Mid-May to October 1971


Until mid-May, the aim of the Indian campaign was to draw
international attention to the ‘genocide’ and massive violation of
human rights by Pakistan, call for restoration of ‘normalcy’ in ‘East
Bengal’, highlight the plight of the refugees and seek international
support for refugee relief measures, pending their voluntary return to
their homeland. By mid-May, as the refugee influx approached 3
million, India began to bring into focus a new dimension of the
problem – the threat to India’s security resulting from the massive
inflow of refugees.
On 13 May, the Indian prime minister wrote to several world
leaders, drawing their attention to the security dimension of the
crisis. In her letter to President Nixon, for example, she pointed to
the ‘grave security risk’ posed by the presence of nearly 3 million
refugees in ‘politically the most sensitive parts of India’, areas that
‘can very easily become explosive’. She pointed specifically to the
‘dangers of a link-up between the extremists in the two Bengals’. The
refugee influx, she stated, ‘constitutes a grave security risk which no
responsible government can allow to develop’. She concluded by
appealing to Nixon to persuade the Pakistani military junta to give up
its policy of repression.14
On 24 May, Indira Gandhi spelled out the security implications in an
important statement in parliament:
What was claimed to be an internal problem of Pakistan, has also become
an internal problem for India . . . Pakistan cannot be allowed to seek a
solution of its political or other problems at the expense of India and on
Indian soil . . . [Pakistan’s reign of terror in “Bangla Desh” is] threatening
the peace and stability [of India] . . . Conditions must be created to stop
any further influx of refugees and to ensure their early return under credible
guarantees for their future safety and well-being . . . If the world does not
take heed, we shall be constrained to take all measures as may be
necessary to ensure our own security . . . The Great Powers have a special
responsibility. If they exercise their power rightly and expeditiously then
only can we look forward to durable peace in our sub-continent. But if they
fail – and I sincerely hope they will not – then the suppression of human
rights, the uprooting of people, and the continued homelessness of vast
numbers of human beings will threaten peace.15
India had previously confined its position, in its international
appeals, to the violation of human rights and democratic principles
and the need for humanitarian assistance. Indira Gandhi now
brought up the question of peace and security and the need to
prevent Pakistan from ‘exporting’ its domestic problems to India. If
the international community, and the Great Powers in particular,
failed to meet their responsibilities, India would have the right to deal
with the threat, in self-defence.
This political message was elaborated as a legal doctrine later in
the year. On 3 November, the Indian representative in the UN Sixth
(Legal) Committee, the distinguished jurist Nagendra Singh, called
for a comprehensive definition of ‘aggression’ and ‘self-defence’:
[A] definition of aggression excluding indirect aggression would be
incomplete and, therefore, dangerous . . . There could be a unique type of
bloodless aggression resulting from a vast flow of millions of human beings
forced to flee into another country. If this vast invasion of unarmed men in
totally unmanageable proportions were to not only impair the economic and
political well-being of the receiving victim but to threaten its very existence .
. . it would have to be categorised as aggression . . . [W]hat would be the
concept of self-defence [in] such an eventuality?16
In June and July, cabinet ministers were dispatched to all the
continents to explain and seek support for India’s position that the
refugee exodus had precipitated not only a humanitarian crisis but
also a threat to its peace and security; that the refugee flow must be
urgently halted and reversed; and that this required restoration of
normalcy and a political resolution acceptable to the people of ‘East
Bengal’. The envoys emphasized the responsibility of the
international community to press Pakistan to move in this direction.
They called for a halt to arms supplies as well as economic aid to
Pakistan, with the exception only of humanitarian relief under
international supervision. Foreign Minister Swaran Singh instructed
Indian diplomats to ‘plug this once, twice, three, four times. Start
from the lower rung. Go up to the higher levels. Come to the lower
level and try at all levels . . . We have [a] very definite objective and
you have to prepare the ground.’17

Foreign minister’s tour of the western capitals


In June, Swaran Singh himself visited the most important western
capitals – Washington, London, Paris, Bonn and Ottawa. Two
parallel developments had a bearing on the outcome of his tour. By
June, public opinion in the major western democracies was strongly
critical of Pakistan, thanks to the ceaseless efforts of human rights
activists and regular press and TV exposure of the atrocities
committed by the Pakistani army in East Bengal. Public opinion in
several western countries favoured suspension of economic aid and
military sales to Pakistan – though, as we shall see, the impact on
official policy differed widely on the two sides of the Atlantic.
The second development was a World Bank-International Monetary
Fund (IMF) team report on economic aid for Pakistan. By the end of
April 1971, Pakistan was confronted by a severe economic crisis.
Operation Searchlight had resulted in massive economic disruption
in the eastern wing. Jute exports, which accounted for almost half of
Pakistan’s foreign exchange earnings, came to a near-total halt. By
the end of the month, Islamabad was obliged to declare a
moratorium on debt servicing and to request a meeting of the Aid
Consortium for Pakistan to discuss plans for long-term rescheduling
of its debts. A joint World Bank–IMF team visited Islamabad and
Dhaka in June to form an assessment. A senior Pakistani civil
servant provides a vignette of the situation prevailing in Dhaka on
the night of the governor’s dinner in honour of the team.
While drinks were being served in the drawing room . . . sounds of bomb
explosions, which did not seem to be very far off, were heard at regular
intervals . . . By the time we had moved to the dining-table, shooting had
been added to the bomb explosions and the chatter of machine-gun fire
almost drowned the polite conversation.18
Not surprisingly, the team arrived at a negative conclusion. They
found that an ‘all-pervasive fear’ and a ‘severely damaged’
infrastructure stood in the way of economic revival; that Islamabad
had ‘little understanding’ of the problems of reviving growth.19 When
the Aid Consortium met on 21 June, it declined to provide new aid to
Pakistan, except for humanitarian food aid to stave off famine in East
Pakistan.

Britain
When Mrs Gandhi’s letter of 13 May was received in London, the
Foreign Office offered the pragmatic advice that ‘our interest lies in
retaining with Mrs. Gandhi as close and satisfactory a working
relationship as we can’.20 The British government was also under
strong public and parliamentary pressure to take a strong stand
against the brutal suppression of the people of East Bengal. Britain
had already banned export of lethal military supplies to Pakistan in
April (though exports of non-lethal items continued). In June, ahead
of the Aid Consortium for Pakistan meeting, London decided to
suspend further economic aid to Pakistan. Prime Minister Heath
wrote to Gen. Yahya warning that ‘there can be no future for a united
Pakistan unless you can resume the process [negotiations with the
Awami League] which you started’.21 Replying to Mrs Gandhi’s letter,
the British prime minister said that he had impressed on Yahya the
importance of halting the refugee exodus and the need for ‘early
political advance’. He promised assistance for the refugees in India –
but then introduced a discordant note by referring to the need for
‘arranging, if possible, for their ultimate return home [emphasis
added]’.22
Swaran Singh’s principal objective in London, therefore, was to
disabuse the British of the notion that India might agree to
permanently host the refugees. When he met Heath on 21 June, he
explained the strain on India’s security caused by the presence of
the refugees and stated emphatically that India insisted that all the
refugees must return to their homes. This required a political
settlement acceptable to the Awami League. It was essential that
Mujib be released from prison and talks be held with him. Heath’s
response was positive. He said he ‘fully understood’ India’s position
and asked Swaran Singh to assure Mrs Gandhi that Britain ‘. . .
would continue to do all we could to persuade President Yahya Khan
to bring about a political solution as quickly as possible’. Within a day
of his meeting with Swaran Singh, the British prime minister told the
Pakistani high commissioner that Islamabad ‘should understand the
real fear felt in India about the instability that could be caused by the
refugee problem’.23

France
In Paris, too, Swaran Singh achieved significant results. France had
earlier adhered to a very narrow interpretation of the principle of non-
interference. Thus, when Swaran Singh took up the question of the
refugees with Foreign Minister Schumann on 12 June, the latter took
the position that while the humanitarian question of refugee relief
was an international concern, the question of a political solution was
an internal problem of Pakistan. Undeterred by this setback, Swaran
Singh seized the opportunity offered by the presence of President
Pompidou at an official luncheon. He was able to persuade the
French president to take a more sympathetic view of the Indian
position. The outcome was reflected in the official French statement
issued after the talks, which said that Schumann had ‘expressed the
wish that no effort be neglected to provide a political solution to this
crisis which stops the flood of refugees and enables their return to
their homes’.24 Paris had earlier informed New Delhi that France had
not entered into any new contracts for arms supplies to Pakistan
after its crackdown in its eastern division. Towards the end of June,
France also conveyed its decision to suspend arms deliveries even
on old contracts.25

Federal Republic of Germany


When Swaran Singh took up his brief with his German counterpart in
Bonn, he ran into the usual wall of ‘non-interference’. Foreign
Minister Scheel readily agreed that it was necessary to normalize the
political situation in East Pakistan, but he insisted that this was an
internal matter for the Pakistanis. Bonn was ready to work within the
Aid to Pakistan Consortium to suspend further economic assistance,
but not to exert ‘political pressure’. Chancellor Brandt lent a more
sympathetic ear to Swaran Singh’s representation and assured him
of his government’s willingness to contribute to a solution ‘within the
scope of our possibilities’.26 As promised, Bonn voted in favour of
suspending fresh aid to Pakistan in the Consortium. Under pressure
of public opinion, it also imposed an arms embargo in September,
but blurred its political implications by applying the embargo to both
Pakistan and India!

Canada
The Indian foreign minister found little comfort in Canada, a country
that faced its own secessionist problem in the French-speaking
province of Quebec. The Quebec problem appears to have
influenced not only Canadian policy but also Ottawa’s
comprehension of the East Bengal situation. A foreign ministry
memorandum prepared on the eve of Swaran Singh’s visit summed
up the Canadian appreciation of the situation. ‘Our judgment is that
the precipitate withdrawal of the Pakistan Army would probably turn
East Pakistan over to chaos . . . What is needed from the Pakistan
Government is a resumption of the search for an agreed political
solution and we have been encouraged by recent indications that
they are moving in this direction.’27 Based on this grotesque
assessment, Canadian policy not only eschewed any criticism of
Pakistan but even insisted that ‘aid [to Pakistan] should be without
strings’.28 This was the line taken by Foreign Minister Sharp in his
meeting with Swaran Singh on 13 June. Ottawa refused to budge
from its inflexible interpretation of ‘non-interference’.

United States
In June 1971, a strange situation prevailed in Washington. Through
Byzantine manoeuvres, the White House was keeping the State
Department in the dark about its most important foreign policy
initiative – its opening to China. Unknown to Secretary of State
William Rogers, Nixon had been sending secret feelers to the
Chinese leaders since 1969 through Yahya Khan and President
Ceausescu of Romania. Finally, on 27 April 1971, at the end of a
long-drawn-out exchange of secret messages, the Pakistani
ambassador in Washington, Agha Hilaly, met Kissinger to deliver a
verbal message from Zhou to Nixon. Zhou conveyed China’s
‘willingness to receive publicly in Beijing a special envoy of the
President of the US’.29 At the time of Swaran Singh’s visit in June
1971, unknown to the State Department, preparations were in
progress for Kissinger’s secret trip to Beijing in the following month,
via Pakistan. Rogers and his officials were unaware of the White
House’s China initiative and its fallout (for real or imaginary reasons)
on US policy towards Pakistan.
As we saw in Chapter 2, Kissinger drew the attention of senior
officials in early March to Nixon’s ‘special relationship’ with Yahya,
terminating a discussion on the question of advising the Pakistan
president to exercise restraint. In April, in the face of strong media
and Congressional revulsion at Pakistan’s brutal military crackdown,
the Senior Review Group chaired by Kissinger decided only to place
a hold on military supplies and new loans to Pakistan, pending a
decision by the president. The State Department was also aware of
Nixon’s strong dislike of the Indian prime minister. A senior State
Department official recalls, ‘When
Mrs Gandhi’s actions ran counter to White House desires, Nixon’s
customary sobriquet of “that bitch” was replaced by more unprintable
epithets.’30 The officials were, however, still in the dark about the
implications of opening to China.
Against a background of mounting criticism of Pakistani atrocities
in the media and Congress, the State Department took two
provisional measures, subject to subsequent presidential approval.
The first concerned military supplies. In 1968, Nixon had granted
Pakistan a ‘one-time exception’ to the embargo on military sales to
India and Pakistan imposed after the 1965 war. The employment of
US-supplied tanks against unarmed Bengali civilians was strongly
condemned in the US media and Congress. In April, the State
Department imposed a temporary ‘hold’ on military supplies for
Pakistan under the ‘one-time exception’, pending a White House
decision. This infuriated the White House, and the State
Department’s efforts to close loopholes in the matter were thwarted
by Nixon and Kissinger. The State Department also planned to cut
economic aid and PL 480 foodgrain shipments to Pakistan for
projects that could no longer be implemented because of the
prevailing conditions in East Pakistan. Interim measures were taken
towards this end, subject to subsequent presidential approval. These
provisional measures aroused fury in the White House. Kissinger
took strong exception to these measures, pointing once again to the
president’s ‘special relationship’ with Yahya.31
On 28 April, Kissinger obtained Nixon’s approval for a policy that
would: (a) allow shipments of non-lethal items to continue, while
holding back shipments of ‘controversial items in order not to
provoke the Congress to force cutting off all aid’; (b) continue to
process development loans for projects that had not been disrupted
by the civil war; and (c) continue PL 480 assistance without
stipulating whether it was destined for the eastern or western wing of
Pakistan. This package was supposedly designed as ‘an effort to
help Yahya achieve a negotiated settlement’. Nixon’s approval came
with a handwritten note that read: ‘To all hands. Don’t squeeze
Yahya at this time.’ ‘Don’t’ was underlined three times.32
In June 1971, it was, indeed, necessary for the White House to
keep Yahya in good humour, since he was still its principal channel
of communication with China. This was, however, only a secondary
consideration. The primary factor was Nixon’s personal dislike of the
Indian prime minister and his regard for the Pakistani military
dictator. This is evident from the fact that the White House ‘tilt’ in
favour of Pakistan became even more marked after July, by when a
direct channel of communication had been established between the
White House
and Beijing.
Swaran Singh met with Rogers and Nixon on 16 June. In his
meeting with Rogers, Swaran Singh offered a ‘reasoned and
restrained analysis’, in the words of his American interlocutors.33 He
emphasized that the first requirement was to end the military
crackdown. The movement of refugees to India must be brought to a
halt and all of the refugees must return to their homes. This required
a political solution reflecting the will of the people, as distinct from a
civilian regime deriving its authority from the Pakistani army. Asked if
this would entail an independent Bangladesh, Swaran Singh replied
reassuringly that India was not committed to any particular outcome.
He urged Washington to use its influence with Islamabad to make it
see that it was in Pakistan’s own interest to install a government
reflecting the will of the people. This offered some prospect of
preserving the unity of the country.
Rogers said that the US could encourage Yahya to seek a political
solution, but it could not ask him to accept secession. He said that
the US had made no military shipments to Pakistan and would keep
this matter under careful review. He observed that economic aid
should not be used to gain political leverage. Countering him,
Swaran Singh pointed out that in the case of Pakistan, economic aid
strengthened the military; it therefore amounted to interference in its
internal affairs. Swaran Singh urged the US to ‘postpone’ economic
aid to Pakistan until Islamabad had taken corrective political action.
Summing up the discussions, Assistant Secretary of State Sisco
observed that the US and Indian views were ‘very close’. The US
would help India to cope with the refugee problem, while recognizing
that this was only a palliative and that the real answer was a political
accommodation.
Later, when discussions continued over a working lunch, Sisco
mentioned that the US had been very careful about economic aid to
Pakistan and there had been a substantial holding operation in this
respect. During the conversation at the table, Swaran Singh briefly
alluded to the possibility of an alternative track. He said that though
India was pursuing the international diplomatic route, he feared a
situation might be created necessitating some other means of
persuasion. This was his only reference to a possible armed conflict.
The Indian foreign minister created a favourable impression of
restraint and sobriety on his State Department interlocutors.34
If the discussions between Rogers and Swaran Singh were marked
by relative candour, the same cannot be said for the latter’s meeting
with Nixon. Briefing Nixon before the meeting, Kissinger told the
president, ‘I am just trying to keep them [the Indians] from attacking
for 3 months’ (presumably because the Pakistani channel to China
would become redundant by then). He advised Nixon to give the
Indians a pleasant surprise by announcing a major new contribution
to refugee relief and to assure Swaran Singh that he was working on
Yahya in his own way to encourage a political resolution, but overt
US pressure would be counterproductive. ‘It’s a little duplicitous,’
explained Kissinger, ‘but these bastards understand that.’35
Concealing his ‘tilt’ towards Pakistan, Nixon listened to the Indian
foreign minister’s presentation with feigned sympathy. He said he
was ‘keenly aware’ of the problem and the ‘enormous agony’ it had
caused. Public pressure on Pakistan would be counterproductive,
but other methods were also available. He asked the foreign minister
to convey to Mrs Gandhi ‘on a completely off-the-record basis’ that ‘I
will use all the persuasive methods that I can [with Yahya Khan], but
I must use them in the way that I think is the most effective.’ He also
informed Swaran Singh that he had decided to provide seventy
million dollars for refugee support, adding that he recognized this
was only a temporary palliative and that it would not solve the basic
problem of getting the refugees to return to their homes.36
Nixon succeeded in misleading even such a shrewd and
experienced statesman as Swaran Singh. Addressing a group of
Indian diplomats in London at the end of his tour, Swaran Singh was
upbeat about his talks with Nixon. ‘[The] present position is that we
have got greater support in the White House as compared to the
State Department.’ he said.37 Swaran Singh was soon to be
disillusioned. In July, after Kissinger’s dramatic visit to Beijing, the
outlines of a Washington–Islamabad–Beijing nexus became evident.
The Indian foreign minister’s itinerary included all the three western
countries that occupied permanent seats in the Security Council. His
discussions in London and Paris proved fruitful; in Washington, he
drew a blank. London and Paris were receptive to public opinion.
They also saw the Bangladesh crisis as a regional, South Asian
issue and took into account the fact that their interests in India
outweighed their interests in Pakistan. In Washington, media and
Congressional opinion was similar to that of the British press and
parliament. State Department perspectives, too, were not dissimilar
to those of the Foreign Office. At least in the early months of the
crisis, the State Department saw the question as essentially a
regional issue and recognized that US interests in India outweighed
those in Pakistan.38 However, the White House was determined to
pursue a very different policy, partly due to Nixon’s personal
prejudices and partly because it perceived – or misperceived – the
problem as a Cold War issue.

United Nations
Meanwhile, the UN high commissioner for refugees, Prince
Sadruddin Aga Khan, sought an expanded role for himself, beyond
that of mobilizing refugee relief. On a visit to India and Pakistan in
June 1971, he proposed establishing a United Nations High
Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) presence in the border areas
– in some of the refugee camps on the Indian side as well as in
some refugee reception centres on the Pakistan side. Sadruddin
asserted that a UNHCR presence at the border would help facilitate
repatriation of the refugees. Pakistan agreed to accept the presence
of a few UN officials in Dhaka, but not outside the provincial capital,
fearing that the officials might witness scenes of oppression and
brutality. New Delhi rejected the proposal outright, since it was
unclear how the presence of these officials in the Indian border
areas could facilitate repatriation. Indeed, the proposal seemed to
imply that India was obstructing the refugees from returning home!
India pointed out that New Delhi–based UNHCR officials were in any
case permitted to visit the camps.
Sadruddin took great pains in his public statements to affect the
neutral posture appropriate to a UN official, but he revealed his bias
in favour of West Pakistan during a visit to Washington at the end of
June. In a meeting with Secretary of State Rogers, Sadruddin said
that India was providing full support to the ‘Mukti Fauj’ (Mukti Bahini)
and insisting that a political solution involving Mujibur Rahman was a
necessary condition for the voluntary return of the refugees. He
urged applying pressure on India to moderate its position on the
need for a prior political settlement, to force it to control and crack
down on the Bangladesh elements, and stop infiltration of the Mukti
Bahini across the border. He surmised that India’s desire to protect
this infiltration from foreign eyes explained the country’s rejection of
his proposal to station his officers in the border camps. He said he
was not discouraged by the Pakistani response; Pakistan, he said,
would agree to his proposal if India agreed to accept UNHCR
personnel on its side of the border.39
Despite India’s outright rejection of Sadruddin’s suggestion, his
proposal was revived in a modified form by the UN secretary
general. On 19 July, U Thant suggested to India and Pakistan that
UNHCR representatives be accepted on a trial basis in two or three
selected areas on each side of the border, in order to ‘ascertain
whether in practice it would serve a useful purpose in facilitating the
process of repatriation [of refugees]’. India rejected the proposal,
pointing out that UNHCR officials based in New Delhi were provided
every facility for visiting the refugee camps. The proposed induction
of UNHCR representatives on the Indian side of the border would
therefore serve no purpose and would only deflect attention from the
urgent need to restore normalcy in East Bengal.40
The secretary general himself had few illusions about the
effectiveness of the proposal. He did not share Sadruddin’s bias and
he recognized that the root cause of the problem lay in the failure of
the Pakistan government to seek a political reconciliation with the
Awami League. U Thant had become deeply concerned about the
resultant threat to international peace. However, he felt bound by
Article 2(7) of the UN Charter, which debarred the United Nations
from intervening in ‘matters which are essentially within the domestic
jurisdiction of any state’. Hence, on 20 July – the day after he
suggested to India and Pakistan the stationing of UNHCR
representatives on both sides of the border – he sent a
memorandum to the president of the Security Council, drawing his
attention to the international security dimension of the issue. It was
unusual for the secretary general to address the Security Council on
a subject that did not figure on its agenda, but U Thant explained
that he had ‘reluctantly come to the conclusion that the time is past
when the international community can continue to stand by, watching
the situation deteriorate and hoping the relief programmes,
humanitarian efforts and good intentions will be enough to turn the
tide of human misery and potential disaster’. He drew attention to the
‘lack of substantial progress toward a political reconciliation and the
consequent effect on law and order and public administration in East
Pakistan’. U Thant pointed out that the ‘conflict between the
principles of territorial integrity of States and of self-determination
has often before in history given rise to fratricidal strife . . . In the
present case there is an additional element of danger for the crisis is
unfolding in the context of the long-standing and unresolved
differences between India and Pakistan.’41
By characterizing the issue as a question of self-determination, U
Thant sought to overcome the obstacle posed by the principle of
non-intervention. The secretary general’s appeal failed to move the
Council. His invocation of the principle of self-determination led to a
piquant situation. It drew a negative response from Pakistan, the
traditional champion of the principle in the context of Kashmir, while
it was endorsed by India. New Delhi observed that the ‘conflict
between the principles of territorial integrity of States and self-
determination is particularly relevant in the situation prevailing in
East Pakistan where the majority of the population is being
suppressed by a minority military regime which has refused to
recognise the results of the elections held by them only in December
last year and had launched a massive campaign of massacre,
genocide and cultural suppression’.42 India formally invoked the
principle of self-determination in December, after it had accorded
formal recognition to the People’s Democratic Republic of
Bangladesh.
Failing to activate the Security Council, the secretary general ill-
advisedly embarked on an initiative which he had himself previously
rejected. On 20 October, he offered his ‘good offices’ to India and
Pakistan. Yahya Khan promptly accepted the offer, inviting him to
visit the subcontinent to discuss mutual troop withdrawals and the
stationing of UN observers along the border to oversee these
withdrawals and ensure the maintenance of peace. Equally
predictably, Indira Gandhi rejected the offer – and not without a trace
of asperity. ‘The root of the problem,’ she wrote, ‘is the fate of the
seventy-five million people of East Bengal and their inalienable rights
. . . To side-track this main problem, and to convert it into an Indo-
Pakistan dispute, can only aggravate tensions.’
The annual session of the UN General Assembly opened in the
third week of September, in accordance with tradition. By then the
Pakistani army had slaughtered hundreds of thousands of unarmed
civilians and driven several million people across the Indian border.
The reaction of the international community to these outrages may
be judged from the General Debate in the Assembly, in which
member states survey global developments from their perspective.
Of the 117 countries that participated in the General Debate, less
than half (fifty-five countries, excluding India and Pakistan) thought it
necessary to refer to the events in East Bengal. Of these, twenty-
four dwelt only on the humanitarian problems, excluding any
reference to the political dimension. No more than eight countries
referred specifically to the human rights question, and only four
called for a political solution in consultation with the elected
representatives of the people.43
The international community was ready to respond to appeals for
refugee aid, though not on a scale commensurate with requirements.
In some of the major western democracies, public opinion reinforced
by Indian diplomacy led governments to impose an arms embargo
and suspend economic aid to Pakistan. Even Nixon was unable to
openly resume military supplies and had to seek recourse to
clandestine means of evading the arms embargo. Most Third World
countries looked on with indifference while a military dictatorship
slaughtered hundreds of thousands of innocent men and women and
drove out several millions from their homeland. The human rights of
the people of Bangladesh, including their basic right to life and the
right to self-determination, would gain recognition only after the
success of the armed struggle.
8. A ‘Geopolitical Revolution’

The Bangladesh liberation struggle coincided with a radical


transformation in US policy towards China. This change – described
as a ‘geopolitical revolution’ in Kissinger’s memoirs – would have
unpredictable implications for Nixon’s policy in the South Asia crisis,
posing a severe challenge for Indian diplomacy.
The ‘geopolitical revolution’ had its origins in the imperatives of an
American withdrawal from Vietnam, combined with the opportunities
thrown up by the sharp increase in tensions between the Soviet
Union and China following bloody clashes on their disputed
boundary in the Ussuri River in March 1969. Nixon and Kissinger
discerned a double opportunity in the deepening Sino-Soviet
confrontation. It gave the United States potential leverage with both
Moscow and Beijing and an opportunity to construct a triangular
relationship, in which each of the communist powers had an
important stake in closer relations with the United States. ‘Policy
emerges when concept encounters opportunity,’ Kissinger reflects in
his memoirs. ‘Such an occasion arose when Soviet and Chinese
troops clashed in the frozen Siberian tundra along a river of which
none of us had heard . . . From then on . . . we moved without further
hesitation toward a momentous change in global diplomacy.’1
In China too, the Sino-Soviet confrontation precipitated a
reappraisal of foreign policy. In the chaotic conditions prevailing
during the Cultural Revolution, Mao had set up an advisory
committee on international affairs composed, strangely, of four
celebrated marshals whom he had sent into political exile. The
marshals – Chen Yi, Ye Jianying, Xu Xiangqian and Nie Rongzhen –
had been consigned to ‘investigation and study’ in industrial factories
in the capital. When their advice was sought after the Sino-Soviet
clashes on the Xinjiang border later in 1969, Chen Yi and Ye
Jianying recommended that China should play the ‘card of the
United States’ to meet the Soviet threat. In September, the marshals
suggested revival of the suspended Sino-US ambassadorial talks in
Warsaw when the ‘time was ripe’. Chen Yi also confided to premier
Zhou En-lai his ‘unconventional thought’ that in addition to reopening
the Warsaw talks, China should also take the initiative to propose
Sino-US talks at a ministerial or even higher level, ‘. . . so that basic
and related problems in Sino-American relations can be solved’.
These views seem to have coincided with Mao’s own thinking. His
personal physician, Dr Li Zhisui, recalls Mao’s observation in August:
‘Didn’t our ancestors counsel negotiating with faraway countries
while fighting with those that are near us?’2
In the words of the historian Margaret MacMillan: ‘The times were
ripe for each side [the US and China] to make a move toward the
other. In both countries there were influential voices saying that the
advantages of a relationship, even a cool one, outweighed
continuing non-recognition. For each the other was a card to play
against the common enemy, the Soviet Union.’3
Thus, by the end of 1969, the United States and China decided to
reopen ambassadorial-level talks in Warsaw. On 20 January 1970,
the first round of Sino-US talks under the Nixon administration was
held in Warsaw. At the next meeting, on 20 February, the Chinese
charge d’affaires, acting on instructions from premier Zhou En-lai
and with Mao’s approval, informed the US ambassador to Poland,
Walter Stoessel, that Beijing was willing to receive a minister or high-
level envoy representing the president in order to explore solutions
to the ‘fundamental questions’ in Sino-US relations. The Chinese
charge d’affaires emphasized that a resolution of the Taiwan issue
was fundamental to improvement of bilateral relations, but he added
that the Chinese side was also prepared to consider any ideas and
suggestions that the US might wish to offer.4
Though there was general agreement in Washington on the need
for an opening to China, Kissinger and the State Department did not
see eye to eye on the preconditions for a high-level visit. The State
Department view was that a high-level visit should be undertaken
only after the Chinese had provided some indication that they were
prepared to meet US concerns in Asia. In the absence of such an
indication, there was a ‘serious risk of our being used by Peking for
its own purposes in its relations with the Soviets without any
compensating gains [for the US]’, particularly in South-east Asia.
Moreover, an unprepared visit could create serious complications in
US relations with friendly Asian countries.
Kissinger held a contrary view. ‘The visit of an American emissary
to Peking was bound to spark a geopolitical revolution; the effect on
Hanoi alone would be traumatic,’ he believed.5 Kissinger was
dismissive of the Warsaw channel, which he regarded as
unproductive – a view that ignored the fact that the channel had
yielded the sought-after invitation for a high-level visit. The real
problem with the Warsaw channel was that it was operated by the
State Department. In the ensuing inter-departmental power play,
Secretary of State Rogers was no match for Kissinger. Nixon fell in
with Kissinger’s proposal to set up a secret channel of
communication with Beijing, leaving the State Department in the
dark. The choice of channel was to have momentous consequences
for South Asia.
The White House launched its China initiative in the deepest
secrecy in October 1970. On 25 October, Nixon asked Yahya Khan
to convey a message to the Chinese leadership during his scheduled
visit to Beijing in November. The US president’s message was that
he regarded a Sino-US rapprochement as essential, that the United
States would never join hands with the Soviet Union in a
condominium directed against China, and that it was prepared to
send a high-level emissary to China. A similar message was sent
through President Ceausescu of Romania the next day. The State
Department was kept in ignorance. Secretary of State Rogers had
no inkling of the move for the next nine months, till July 1971.
Zhou’s response first arrived through the Pakistani channel on 8
December. China would welcome a visit by a special envoy of
President Nixon to discuss ‘vacation of Chinese territories called
Taiwan’. A month later, the Romanian ambassador conveyed a
similar message from Zhou, with an important additional element –
Beijing was also prepared to receive President Nixon himself. The
White House replied through the same two channels. The US was
prepared to send a special envoy to discuss the entire range of
outstanding issues, including Taiwan. On 27 April, Washington finally
received the Chinese response through the Pakistani channel.
Beijing was willing to ‘publicly receive’ a special envoy of the
president, or even the president himself. Zhou suggested that
arrangements for the visit could be made through the good offices of
President Yahya Khan. On 10 May, Kissinger conveyed the US
response to Pakistan’s ambassador to the US, Agha Hilaly. Nixon
was ready to accept Zhou’s invitation to visit China, following a
preparatory visit by Kissinger.6 Yahya’s role as an intermediary
powerfully reinforced Nixon’s pro-Pakistan leaning.

India and the superpowers (March–July)


A central element of India’s grand strategy was the search for the
support of at least one, and preferably both, of the superpowers.
New Delhi hoped that pressure from the two superpowers would
compel Pakistan to accept the legitimate demands of the elected
representatives of the people of the eastern wing. Failing this,
support from at least one of the superpowers would be needed to
ensure adequate and timely delivery of military supplies, avert an
unfavourable or untimely decision of the UN Security Council, and
deter China from military intervention in support of Pakistan.
By the end of the 1960s, the Soviet Union had emerged as the
principal supplier of military equipment to India. Shared concerns
about Chinese intentions were one of the pillars on which Indo-
Soviet relations rested. Relations were temporarily ruffled when the
Soviet Union decided in June 1968 to sell arms to Pakistan in an
effort to draw Islamabad away from its close ties to China, but
Moscow soon came to recognize the futility of the exercise. Vigorous
Indian protests elicited a Soviet assurance in October 1970 that
arms sales to Pakistan would be discontinued.
While India relied on the Soviet Union for its defence requirements,
it looked to the United States for economic aid. The United States
was by far its principal source of economic aid. By 1971, however,
India’s economic development had reached a level where foreign
aid, though important, was no longer a critical requirement, at least
in the short term. Additionally, by 1971, the Green Revolution had
freed India of its acute dependence on US PL 480 foodgrain
deliveries. The intelligence agencies of the two countries had a
modest programme of cooperation to monitor Chinese military
movements in Tibet and nuclear tests in north-western China.
Political ties came under strain in 1970, when the Nixon
administration announced that it would provide armoured personnel
carriers and replacement aircraft to Pakistan in a ‘one-time
exception’ to its post-1965 policy of suspending arms sales to both
India and Pakistan. Nevertheless, New Delhi expected Washington
to maintain its traditionally supportive attitude in the event of a
Chinese attack.
Moscow showed its hand without being asked. As we noted in
Chapter 7, President Podgorny wrote to Yahya Khan on 2 April to
convey his ‘great alarm’ over the use of armed force against the
population of East Pakistan and the arrest of Mujibur Rahman and
other Awami League leaders. The Soviet president appealed to
Yahya to immediately stop the ‘bloodshed and repression’ in East
Pakistan and seek a peaceful political settlement. Significantly, the
Soviets consulted D.P. Dhar, then Indian ambassador in Moscow,
before sending the letter.
Encouraged by this development, Indira Gandhi decided to take
the Soviet leaders into confidence. Ambassador Dhar called on
Kosygin to convey an oral message from the Indian prime minister.
She was facing a ‘terrible dilemma’. She was resisting heavy
pressure from members of parliament and the general public to
accord immediate recognition to the newly proclaimed state of
Bangladesh. The leaders of the Bangladesh movement, who had
appealed to her for help, were basically nationalists, but she feared
that the leadership of the movement, with the passage of time, might
slip out of their hands and pass into the hands of pro-China factions.
China was ‘playing a double-faced game’, offering public support to
Islamabad while working clandestinely to increase its influence in
East Pakistan. India was ‘deeply concerned about what China might
do’. Thus, it was a ‘matter of the highest importance’ that the
struggle in East Pakistan be brought to an end as soon as possible.
Dhar was instructed to sound out the Soviet leadership on two
questions. Was there any possibility of a joint Soviet–US initiative to
bring the East Pakistan conflict to an early conclusion? If this was
not possible, were the Soviets prepared to share with India the
burden of sustaining the freedom struggle in East Pakistan?7
The Soviet response, delivered by its ambassador in Delhi, Nikolai
Pegov, simply ignored the suggestion of a joint Soviet–US initiative.
It expressed high appreciation for the ‘friendly sincerity’ of Mrs
Gandhi’s message and commended her for resisting domestic
pressures for according diplomatic recognition to Bangladesh. It
asserted that ‘there are still some possibilities for inducing the
military administration in Pakistan to abandon the use of arms in
East Pakistan’. Moscow shared with New Delhi the draft of another
appeal from Podgorny to Yahya Khan, and invited Indira Gandhi to
offer suggestions regarding the text. Referring indirectly to India’s
concerns about China, Moscow stated that it was ‘extremely
important not to allow the development of a situation in which the
events in East Pakistan would expand beyond the territory of
Pakistan, harm the interests of peace in the region and lead to
interference of third countries’. Finally, Moscow expressed its great
satisfaction with the development of Indo–Soviet relations, adding
cryptically that ‘there are unused possibilities’ for further
strengthening these ties.
New Delhi was disappointed with this enigmatic reply and did not
quite know what to make of it.8 Though friendly in tone, it ignored the
suggestion of a joint initiative by the two superpowers. Neither did it
offer any reassurance of support against Chinese designs. Indian
officials failed to read the hint in ‘unused possibilities’ for raising the
level of bilateral ties. Moscow was referring to a proposal it had
made in 1969 for a treaty of mutual cooperation between the USSR
and India.
On 27 March, just before the last flicker of hope for a united,
democratic Pakistan was extinguished, Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul
shared with US Ambassador Kenneth Keating his profound concern
about the evolving situation. Kaul said that refugees had already
begun to come across the border. He apprehended that the trickle
would soon grow into a massive flood, imposing a huge burden on
India. Would the United States agree to share the economic burden
of providing relief to the refugees? Kaul also said that he feared the
situation developing across the border might precipitate a security
threat to India. He drew Keating’s attention to the presence of
extremist pro-Chinese elements in East Pakistan. China might
decide to fish in troubled waters. The foreign secretary suggested
that it might still not be too late for the United States to convey to the
Pakistan government its hope for a peaceful solution to the East
Pakistan problem.
Keating parried the question concerning refugee relief with the
observation that it related to a hypothetical situation. He responded
to Kaul’s second question on the lines of the instructions sent to his
colleague in Islamabad. He said that Washington viewed the conflict
in East Pakistan as a domestic issue that should be resolved
internally by the Pakistanis themselves.9
This negative response did not extinguish Indian hopes of
attracting US support. As we have seen, in its first feelers to the
Soviet Union, India broached the possibility of a joint US–Soviet
initiative to bring the East Pakistan conflict to an end as soon as
possible. Moscow’s response to this suggestion was a deafening
silence.
Declassified US documents reveal what appears to have been a
surprisingly optimistic Indian initiative. (Available Indian records
provide no confirmation of this report, but it deserves notice
nevertheless.) On 9 April, Kissinger chaired a meeting of the 40
Committee, the group of senior US officials responsible for
overseeing clandestine operations, to consider an Indian request to
the CIA for provision of unmarked small arms for the East Bengal
freedom fighters. (The request, presumably from RAW, might have
been prompted by the intelligence agency’s knowledge of the Awami
League’s hopes for securing US support.) CIA Deputy Director
General Cushman said the CIA had a secure channel through which
deliveries could be arranged but, in his opinion, the operation could
not be kept secret for very long. He added that the CIA director,
Richard Helms, was not in favour of the project. When Kissinger
commented that he assumed the Indians had sufficient stocks of
small arms to meet the requirement, a CIA official explained that
India did not have the required unmarked and unattributable
weapons. Under Secretary of State John Irwin was ‘reluctant’ to
accept the Indian request, and Assistant Secretary Joseph Sisco
thought that the Indians were ‘testing’ the US. It was one thing, Sisco
said, for the US to close its eyes to clandestine Indian support for the
East Pakistan resistance movement, but quite another to actively
collude with the Indians. Kissinger brought the discussion to an end
by observing that the president would never approve the project.10
The American response to India’s appeal for support to the
refugees was more positive. Partly in order to counter Congressional
and media criticism of its political inaction, Washington supported
India’s request for UN humanitarian assistance for the refugees and
contributed to it through international relief agencies. Nixon ruled out
direct assistance to India to avoid giving offence to Pakistan.11 At the
same time, Washington instructed Ambassador Keating to warn New
Delhi that US aid for the refugees would be called into question if
reports of Indian intentions of training and equipping Bangladesh
freedom fighters on Indian soil turned out to be true. When Keating
met Foreign Minister Swaran Singh on 3 May to convey the US
decision to support international relief efforts, he also raised the
question of India’s reported involvement with the freedom fighters.
Swaran Singh dismissed the reports as ‘absolutely incorrect’.12
As we noted earlier, Mrs Gandhi had written to Nixon on 13 May,
drawing his attention to the South Asian crisis. She had pointed out
that the presence of almost 3 million refugees from ‘East Bengal’ on
Indian soil posed not only an enormous economic burden but also a
grave security risk for India. The stifling of democracy in East Bengal
would inevitably strengthen extremist political elements there, posing
the real danger of their linking up with their counterparts in West
Bengal. She had appealed to the US president to use his influence
with the rulers of Pakistan to stop the repression that had driven their
citizens across the border and to ensure the safety of Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman.13 In reply, Nixon had informed the Indian prime minister of
his decision to step up humanitarian assistance for the refugees. On
the political issue, he said disingenuously that he was engaged in
‘quiet diplomacy’ to encourage Pakistan to seek a peaceful political
accommodation and to restore conditions under which the refugee
flow would stop and the refugees enabled to return to their homes.14
By the time this misleading response was composed, the Nixon–
Kissinger ‘tilt’ towards Pakistan had hardened. Until 27 April, when
Ambassador Hilaly delivered Zhou’s message inviting the president
or his envoy to visit Beijing and suggesting that the modalities could
be worked out through the Pakistani channel, Pakistan had been
only one of the two channels used by the White House for
communicating with China. After 27 April, Pakistan became the sole
channel of communication with China for the US. It was to provide
the secret embarkation point for Kissinger’s flight to Beijing. This
strengthened the case for the ‘tilt’, if only temporarily. The Pakistani
channel would become redundant after Kissinger’s visit, during
which he would establish a direct line of contact with Beijing.
This explains why Kissinger told Nixon, ‘I am just trying to keep
them [the Indians] from attacking for three months,’ while briefing the
president before meeting with Swaran Singh.15 As recommended by
Kissinger, Nixon took a ‘duplicitous’ line in his conversation with the
Indian foreign minister and succeeded in seriously misleading him.
The illusion was shattered within a few days. On 22 June, the New
York Times reported that despite the American embargo, two
freighters were set to sail from New York with a cargo of military
supplies for Pakistan. The quantities involved were modest, and in
fact the shipments originated from a loophole in the export control
regime, but they came as a shock to New Delhi, which had only a
few days earlier received assurances that no arms were being
delivered to Pakistan.

Kissinger in India
An Asian tour culminating in New Delhi and Islamabad provided the
cover for Kissinger’s secret trip to Beijing. In Islamabad, Kissinger
would announce that he had developed a stomach ailment in the
subcontinent – a mishap not uncommon here among visitors from
the western world – and then disappear from public view for a few
days. A Pakistan Air Force plane would fly him to China in the
greatest secrecy.
During his brief sojourn in India (6–7 July), Kissinger met the prime
minister, the ministers of external affairs and defence, as well as
Indira Gandhi’s chief aide, P.N. Haksar. His principal aims were to
assuage Indian outrage over the US arms shipments to Pakistan; to
assess Indian intentions in East Pakistan; and to gently prepare his
interlocutors for the impending breakthrough in Sino-US relations.
Kissinger informed the Indian leaders that the Nixon administration
aimed to gradually establish a relationship with China and that some
developments might be expected in the coming months.
When Swaran Singh complained that he had been given the
impression that no military supplies would be delivered to Pakistan,
Kissinger said that he himself was under the same impression! He
explained that the shipments had resulted from some lacunae in
administrative controls. The foreign minister responded that he
should have been informed of these lacunae. Kissinger expressed
regret for the ‘lackadaisical’ manner in which the issue had been
handled in Washington, but Swaran Singh remained sceptical.
Haksar was more cutting. When Kissinger ascribed the shipments to
a ‘bureaucratic muddle’, Haksar responded that if that was indeed
the case, then an assurance should be given that the mistake would
not be repeated. Kissinger shifted ground, stating that the supplies
were only of marginal importance and that the US needed some
leverage with Yahya Khan. ‘You cannot explain the arms supplies as
a bureaucratic muddle and yet argue that such supplies give you
leverage,’ Haksar observed sharply.16
Mrs Gandhi, in her meeting with Kissinger, highlighted the
enormous and increasing burden imposed on India by the refugee
influx. She said she did not want to use force and she sought US
suggestions on how the refugee problem might be speedily resolved.
When Kissinger asked how much time was available before the
problem became unmanageable, the prime minister replied that it
was already unmanageable. ‘We are just holding it together by sheer
willpower,’ she said. Kissinger asked if Mujib had to be an essential
part of a settlement. Mrs Gandhi side-stepped the question, stating
that this was not an India–Pakistan problem; a settlement had to be
reached between West and East Pakistan.
Kissinger touched on the international implications of an Indo-
Pakistan conflict in his discussions with Haksar. He said that in the
event of such a conflict, China would certainly react, and this would
lead India to rely on Soviet assistance. This would cause
complications for the United States. Haksar replied that India wanted
a peaceful solution; if China were to intervene, India expected and
hoped that US sympathies would lie with India: ‘I am a bit puzzled by
your saying that if we get involved in a conflict which is not of our
choosing and the Chinese intervened in one way or other, the United
States, instead of assisting us, would feel some sort of discomfiture.’
Haksar requested a clarification on the broad framework within which
the United States viewed its policies towards the Soviet Union, China
and India. Kissinger replied reassuringly that it would be folly for the
United States to seek to improve relations with China in such a
manner that it jeopardized Soviet interests. ‘Also, if the Chinese seek
to dominate . . . India, we cannot connive in this. In this global view,
Pakistan is only of regional significance.’17
The China theme was explored further in Kissinger’s meeting with
Defence Minister Jagjivan Ram. Defence Secretary K.B. Lall asked
Kissinger if he thought China might ‘start something’. Kissinger
replied, ‘We think it highly unlikely. I might also tell you that we would
take a very grave view of any Chinese move against India.’ Probing
a little further, Lall inquired: ‘Is it possible that China might be in
some doubt in this regard?’ Kissinger replied: ‘ . . . we will leave
them in no doubt.’18
From India, Kissinger flew to Pakistan for discussions with Yahya,
after which he and his hosts enacted their elaborate plan of
deception to provide cover for Kissinger’s secret trip to Beijing.
(Secretary of State Rogers was informed about Kissinger’s China
visit shortly before the flight took off!) The plan was implemented
flawlessly, and the world was taken by total surprise when it was
revealed that the Nixon’s assistant for national security affairs had
visited Beijing and that the US president himself would soon visit
China. For India, it came as a double surprise. The revelation of a
Pakistani role in the US–China breakthrough raised questions about
its implications for US policy in the South Asia crisis.

The Jha telegram


Nixon chaired a meeting of the National Security Council on 16 July
to consider the implications of the breakthrough in Sino-US ties for
US policy in South Asia. He opened the meeting by stating that the
situation in the subcontinent posed enormous risks for America’s
China policy. It was imperative that the Pakistanis not be
embarrassed at this time. World opinion was on the side of the
Indians, but they were ‘a slippery, treacherous people’. The US could
not allow a war in the region until ‘we take this journey’ to Beijing.
Acknowledging that he had ‘a bias’, he said he would cut off all
economic aid to the Indians if ‘they mess around in East Pakistan’.
Kissinger agreed that India seemed bent on war. By linking a
solution to the refugee problem with an overall political solution, India
appeared to be using the refugees for a political purpose. Kissinger
said that he thought China would intervene if war broke out. If that
came to pass, ‘everything we have done [with China] will go down
the drain’.19
It might be noted that by this time the United States no longer
required a Pakistani channel for communicating with China. A direct
channel had been established at the conclusion of Kissinger’s trip.
Kissinger’s original justification for keeping Pakistan in good humour
had ceased to be valid, but the president obviously had other
reasons for humouring Yahya. Secondly, Kissinger’s assessment of
Chinese intentions was wide of the mark. We now know that China
did not at any stage commit itself to direct military intervention in
support of its Pakistani client. Nixon’s insistence on accommodating
Yahya’s and Kissinger’s misreading of Chinese intentions was to
have a major impact on the unfolding South Asian crisis.
The very next day after the National Security Council meeting,
Kissinger sent for the Indian ambassador, L.K. Jha, to deliver a
pointed message. Jha’s telegram to Foreign Secretary Kaul reported
what Kissinger had conveyed:
Please tell Foreign Minister and others with whom I talked in Delhi that
[the] assurances I gave them about China on the eve of my visit stand and
have the full approval of the President. Of course, if you decide to invade
Tibet, we would not be able to help, but that is unlikely. A more pressing
danger when we would be unable to help you against China is that of an
Indo-Pakistan conflict in which China comes to Pakistan’s support
[emphasis added].20
Nixon’s ‘tilt’ towards Pakistan had acquired a new and more
dangerous dimension. Kissinger’s message suggested an incipient
quasi-alliance between Pakistan, China and the United States. Indira
Gandhi’s response to the ‘geopolitical revolution’ was prompt and
sure-footed. On 9 August 1971, India and the Soviet Union
concluded a Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Cooperation. To
Kissinger, the treaty came as a ‘bombshell’.21
9. The Indo-Soviet Treaty

An Indo-Soviet Treaty was first mooted by Marshal Andrei Grechko,


the Soviet defence minister, during a visit to India in March 1969.
The marshal’s visit coincided with armed clashes between the Soviet
Union and China on the contested Sino-Soviet border along the
Ussuri River. The hostilities took relations between Moscow and
Beijing to new depths. In his discussions with Indian leaders,
Grechko dwelt on the danger posed by Beijing to neighbouring
states and held out an assurance of Soviet support in the event of a
Chinese attack on India. In this context, the marshal proposed a
treaty to strengthen mutual cooperation between the USSR and
India in the political and military fields.
The primary aim of the Soviet initiative was, of course, to counter
Chinese military adventures. However, there was a further dimension
to Grechko’s proposal of a treaty. A parallel Soviet objective was to
build on Moscow’s role as a reliable arms supplier in order to
enhance its political and strategic ties with a wider group of Asian
and Middle Eastern states. These included not only countries facing
a potential military threat from China (such as India and Vietnam),
but also others that did not lie on China’s periphery or face a
Chinese military threat. Thus, in the 1970s, the Soviet Union was to
conclude treaties of friendship and cooperation with Egypt (1971),
India (1971), Iraq (1972), Vietnam (1978), Yemen Arab Republic
(1979) and Syria (1980). In a related move, the USSR also proposed
the creation of an Asian collective security system at an international
conference of communist parties in Moscow on 8 June 1969.
In 1969, there was a broad convergence of Indian and Soviet
interests in regard to China, but also nascent divergence over
Pakistan. India–China relations were deeply strained as a result of
the 1962 war. On New Year’s Day in 1969, Prime Minister Indira
Gandhi had taken an exploratory step towards an opening with
China when she stated at a press conference that India was
prepared to hold talks with China without preconditions, thus resiling
from the earlier position that talks could be held only after Beijing’s
acceptance of the Colombo Proposals advanced by a group of non-
aligned countries in 1963.1 Mrs Gandhi’s offer elicited no response
from China, and relations between the two countries continued to be
tense. The Chinese threat loomed large, especially against the
background of a growing Sino-Pakistani military relationship.
At the same time, however, India was deeply concerned about a
recent development in Soviet policy towards Pakistan. In 1968, the
USSR agreed to supply arms to Pakistan, in an attempt to wean it
away from China. It became a major aim of Indian policy to seek
restoration of its position as the exclusive recipient of Soviet arms in
South Asia. Moscow, on the other hand, sought to deepen its ties
with both India and Pakistan, with the aim of drawing them into some
sort of an Asian collective security system.
This became clear when Indian Ambassador to Moscow D.P. Dhar
called on Marshal Grechko at the end of March 1969 to seek further
elucidation of the Soviet proposal of a treaty. Referring to Grechko’s
assurance of Soviet support in the event of a Chinese attack, the
ambassador inquired about the concrete shape of cooperation in the
political and other fields. Dhar also dwelt on India’s apprehensions of
a Pakistani invasion, referring pointedly to the Sino-Pakistani
collusion during the 1965 war. Grechko replied that Indo-Soviet
cooperation in the military and political fields should be given a more
concrete shape. ‘Thinking aloud’, he wondered if such cooperation
could not be translated, as a first step, into a treaty of friendship and
cooperation. At the next stage, the two countries could think in terms
of closer military cooperation. Turning to Pakistan, the marshal said
that he did not think Pakistan could pose a threat to India since it
was weak and divided. However, if Pakistan did commit aggression,
the Soviet Union would be on India’s side. Moscow would side with
the victim of aggression.2
The same message was conveyed by the Soviet ambassador to
India, Pegov, who informed Romesh Bhandari, Dhar’s second-in-
command, that a major Soviet objective was to promote friendship
between India and Pakistan so that they could jointly tackle China.
Pegov also said that an Indo-Soviet Treaty of friendship would
provide insurance against any possible aggression by China or
Pakistan.3
At this stage, Moscow had only proposed a treaty in general terms;
it had yet to present the concrete text of a draft agreement. This
proposal evoked mixed reactions in New Delhi. Haksar, viewing the
proposal in the context of the threat posed by China, was ‘fully
favourable as such a treaty will reflect coincidence of our interests at
present’.4 Ambassador Dhar, too, was enthusiastic. Highlighting
Grechko’s assurance that the USSR would come to India’s
assistance in the event of aggression by China or Pakistan, he said
that if India agreed to consider the marshal’s proposal, the Soviet
Union might also be more forthcoming in meeting India’s requests for
sophisticated weapons, bombers and other military equipment, as
well as in helping to accelerate the process of achieving self-
sufficiency in defence production. He urged the government to
explore these possibilities. If the Soviets proved sufficiently
forthcoming, India could agree to conclude a Treaty of Friendship
and Cooperation that was consistent with non-alignment. Foreign
Minister Dinesh Singh reacted more cautiously. While accepting
Dhar’s proposal for exploratory talks, he raised questions about the
purpose of the proposed treaty and its wording. Did we have similar
treaties with other countries? Uneasy about its compatibility with
India’s non-alignment policy, Dinesh Singh asked for an examination
of the implications of signing a Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation
with the Soviet Union.5
Indira Gandhi conveyed her initial response to the Soviet proposal
in a letter to Kosygin. She began by expressing India’s ‘great
anguish’ over the loss of Soviet lives caused by the Chinese attack,
recalling in this context the Chinese aggression against India in
1962. ‘Therefore, it is natural for the Government and people of India
to feel that a new bond, forged by our common suffering and grief, is
added to the friendship between our two peoples and Governments.’
In this context, she proposed a detailed examination of the ‘several
suggestions’ that had emerged in the ‘exchange of ideas’ between
Dhar and Grechko. The prime minister made it clear, however, that
her concerns were not limited to China. She brought up once again
the question of Soviet military sales to Pakistan and concluded by
expressing her appreciation for the assurance given by Marshal
Grechko that the Soviet Union would support India in the event of
Pakistani aggression.6
New Delhi’s intention at this stage was to engage in exploratory
talks on the Soviet proposal with the aim of seeking an early harvest
in the form of termination of Soviet military sales to Pakistan and
enhanced access to sophisticated Soviet weapon systems and
military technology. Dhar was expected to conduct the talks without
making any commitment that might raise questions about India’s
non-alignment. This general approach was not translated into
specific negotiating instructions.
In the absence of instructions, Ambassador Dhar allowed himself
to be carried away by his own enthusiasm. He called on Kosygin and
told him that India’s response was ‘both positive and constructive’;
however, there were ‘questions of pure mechanics which have to be
resolved before we can progress towards the stage when the
practical implications of such a treaty can be considered’. Dhar
mentioned in this connection questions such as venues,
interlocutors, lists of subjects, etc. Kosygin was not taken in by
Dhar’s evasive rhetoric. Well aware of India’s deep concern over
Soviet–Pakistan ties, he invited the ambassador’s comments on the
subject. Dhar made a forceful presentation of the Indian case,
concluding that ‘no single act has caused greater harm to the image
of the Soviet Union in my country than your policy of arms aid to
Pakistan’. The Soviet premier replied, ‘I deeply appreciate your
frankness, Mr. Ambassador, but you have not resolved my dilemma
in policy. I suggest you should consider all these matters during your
forthcoming discussions with our representatives . . . We must
review the whole question, the question of our arms aid to Pakistan,
the question of Indo-Soviet relations and find an effective answer . . .
Will it not be possible to make an appropriate provision in the treaty
itself which will completely remove the question entirely?’7
Dhar’s report on this conversation caused consternation in New
Delhi. The foreign minister, Dinesh Singh, minuted, ‘I am afraid the
Ambassador has gone too far on the treaty. I have also ascertained
with P.M. [prime minister] he did not have the authority to [go?] to
this length.’8 New Delhi ignored Kosygin’s hint linking the treaty to
cessation of Soviet military supplies to Pakistan. India was prepared
to carry on a general discussion on an Indo-Soviet agreement but
not to accept a treaty which might be construed as a deviation from
the path of non-alignment. Dhar made a course correction as
instructed, during a meeting with Deputy Foreign Minister Firyubin,
and was congratulated by the foreign secretary ‘for the skilful
manner in which you carried on the discussions without making any
commitments’.9

The problematic article


Meanwhile, the Soviet proposal had acquired greater clarity when
Ambassador Pegov handed over to Dinesh Singh on 22 April 1969 a
draft Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation. The ambassador
emphasized that the document was a ‘very preliminary’ draft that
could serve as a basis for discussion. The core of the Soviet draft lay
in Article 6, which had this provision:
In case either of the Parties is subjected to an attack or a threat thereof,
the Parties will immediately initiate mutual consultations with a view to
arriving at agreement on, and implementing, appropriate effective
measures to ensure peace and security of their peoples.
Moscow was mindful of India’s attachment to non-alignment. With
this in mind, Article 4 stated:
The Soviet Union respects the policy of non-alignment with military
groupings pursued by India, a policy that constitutes an important factor in
the struggle for universal peace and international security.10
This was a welcome reassurance, but it did not still New Delhi’s
misgivings about Article 6 and its compatibility with non-alignment.
The prime minister candidly mentioned her reservations to Kosygin
when he visited India in May. She said that she was mainly
concerned about two issues regarding the draft treaty: first, that it
should contain no phraseology that might be misunderstood as a
shift in India’s policy of non-alignment; and second, it should contain
no provision that might be misconstrued as being directed against a
third party. Kosygin tried to reassure her on both points, but Mrs
Gandhi was not fully convinced. Thus, when Kosygin referred to
possible treaty provisions concerning economic and political
cooperation, the Indian prime minister asked him pointedly what he
meant by ‘political cooperation’. The Soviet leader replied that he
meant cooperation in the field of foreign policy; however, this would
be dropped if it was not acceptable to India. At another point, when
Mrs Gandhi expressed her apprehensions concerning China,
Kosygin offered to incorporate in the treaty a clause on ‘mutual
assistance’. Indira Gandhi responded that this would amount to a
military agreement. Kosygin said that the Soviet Union would not
insist on such a clause, but he believed that India would probably
resort to such consultations if the threat arose, regardless of any
treaty.
Indira Gandhi spoke frankly about India’s concern over Soviet arms
supplies to Pakistan. Soviet assistance to Pakistan had an impact on
the regional balance of power. Apart from this, the Soviet
equidistance from India and Pakistan caused irritation in India.
Moscow should refrain from any action that suggested parity of
treatment between India and Pakistan. The Indian prime minister
permitted herself to muse that this point would be met to some
extent if there was an Indo-Soviet Treaty. The talks ended on an
inconclusive note, and the two leaders agreed to continue
discussions on the treaty in Moscow, through the diplomatic
channel.11
In Moscow, the ingenious Ambassador Dhar continued to spin out
the ‘exploratory’ talks with only the sketchiest of instructions. Haksar
himself expressed his dissatisfaction over the absence of
instructions and drew the prime minister’s attention to the need for
clarifying India’s ideas on the Soviet proposal.12 Dhar, too,
complained about being left without instructions.
Finally, at the end of August 1969, an Indian counter-draft was
ready. Prepared by Kaul in association with Dhar and Kewal Singh,
secretary in the MEA, it bore the title ‘Treaty of Peace, Friendship
and Cooperation’. The problematic Article 6 of the Soviet draft was
replaced with a new formulation that read:
Each High Contracting Party undertakes to abstain from providing any
assistance to any third Parties that engage in conflict with the other High
Contracting Party. In the event of either High Contracting Party being
subjected to an attack or a threat thereof by a third Party, the two High
Contracting Parties shall immediately enter into mutual consultations.
The first part of the new article was fashioned in the context of
Soviet military sales to Pakistan. The latter part was a truncated
version of the Soviet Article 6. It dropped the reference to
‘appropriate effective measures to ensure peace and security’ in
order to distance the treaty from a military pact. As a ‘peace’
agreement, it included a pledge to ‘respect the boundaries,
independence, sovereignty and territorial integrity of each other and
to refrain from interfering in the internal affairs of the other party’. It
even included an undertaking to refrain from entering into any
military alliance directed against the other signatory and to ‘abstain
from any aggression against the other High Contracting Party’!
Furthermore, with the aim of giving the treaty the appearance of a
general agreement on cooperation, a mass of new provisions was
introduced, covering cooperation in such diverse spheres as the
economy, science and technology, art, literature and education.
Finally, the reference to India’s policy of non-alignment was retained,
with the addition of a reciprocal expression of India’s respect for the
Soviet policy of promoting detente.
In seeking ministerial approval, Kaul emphasized that the draft
treaty was in full conformity with non-alignment. Like the Soviet draft,
it specifically recognized India’s non-alignment and eschewed any
provision that permitted the presence of foreign troops or bases on
Indian soil. Second, it could be construed as a non-aggression
treaty; this was consistent with non-alignment. India could offer to
sign similar treaties with any other country. The treaty would meet
India’s immediate objective of halting Soviet arms supplies to
Pakistan. The deletion of the reference in the Soviet draft to the
object and outcome of the consultations would enable the Indian
side to differentiate the agreement from a military pact, while making
it serve as a warning to both Pakistan and China.13
After six months of evasive and ‘purely exploratory’ discussions,
the Indians finally handed over their counter-draft to the Soviet side
in September 1969. When detailed discussions began on this draft,
Deputy Foreign Minister Firyubin politely indicated some basic
objections. He observed that the title of the treaty was inappropriate;
peace treaties were signed by warring states on the conclusion of
hostilities. It had no place in a friendship treaty. A non-aggression
clause was not appropriate in the context of the close ties between
India and the Soviet Union. Non-aggression pacts, he said, were in
fashion in the pre-World War II era, before the UN Charter prohibited
the use of force. A friendship treaty reflected a far higher level of ties
between the signatories. Firyubin also inquired why the reference to
‘appropriate effective measures’ had been dropped from the Soviet
formulation and why the Indian draft was confined only to
‘consultations’. Dhar gave a hint of India’s reasons, replying that the
intention was to avoid ‘unfair criticism and preventing people from
reading too much of belligerency and militancy’ in the agreement.14
The discussions led to a certain narrowing of differences and
agreement on some peripheral issues, but not to the crucial Article 6
of the Soviet paper.
New Delhi now reverted to two other issues on which it had lodged
repeated protests in the past. Dhar was advised in October that the
draft treaty could not be finalized until Moscow provided an
assurance that it would not supply any offensive weapons to
Pakistan. The second condition was that Soviet maps should
correctly depict India’s boundaries.15 India had earlier lodged
protests on these issues.
At this stage, a new factor came into play. Moscow came to accept
the failure of its efforts to persuade Pakistan to break away from its
close military and political ties to China or even to participate in
Soviet-sponsored schemes of Asian economic cooperation. When
Kosygin visited Pakistan in May 1969, he had put forward a proposal
for a transit agreement to facilitate trade between the USSR,
Afghanistan, Pakistan and the rest of South Asia. Yahya Khan, not
the most astute among statesmen, initially accepted the proposal,
but retracted later when his military colleagues and the foreign
ministry forcefully drew his attention to the implications for Pakistan’s
trade policy vis-à-vis India, as well as for Sino-Pakistani relations.16
Yahya paid a reciprocal visit to Moscow in the following month.
When he raised the question of additional military supplies, Kosygin
seized the opportunity to inform him in blunt terms that Pakistan
could not be on friendly terms with both China and the Soviet
Union.17 Yahya remained unmoved. These exchanges brought home
to Moscow the lack of realism in its policy of dangling arms sales in
the hope of drawing Pakistan away from its intimate military and
political ties with China.
Thus, by October 1969, the Soviet Union was ready to meet the
Indian request regarding arms supplies to Pakistan. Kosygin at last
offered a categorical assurance regarding cessation of arms supplies
to Pakistan. The assurance was repeated by Marshal Grechko and
Firyubin. An indication was also received that action would be taken
on the question of revising Soviet maps depicting India. In a ‘Strictly
Personal & Top Secret’ letter to Foreign Minister Dinesh Singh in
November 1969, the Indian charge d’affaires in Moscow, Romesh
Bhandari, pressed for immediate finalization of the treaty. ‘I would
now submit that the time has come for us to arrive [at] a decision on
this matter. Any delay in doing so would cause doubts in the minds
of the Soviet leadership regarding our sincerity. This could in turn
lead to a rethinking on their part in respect of the assurances they
have now given.’18
Bhandari’s letter was shown to Indira Gandhi, but she had no
intention of concluding the agreement. She valued the Soviet
assurance of support in the event of Chinese or Pakistani aggression
against India; however, India did not face an immediate threat. She
was concerned also about domestic and international perceptions
regarding the compatibility of the treaty with non-alignment. Her
government enjoyed only a small majority in parliament, and inside
her own party she faced a mounting challenge from the right wing.
New Delhi simply pocketed the Soviet assurance regarding arms
supplies to Pakistan – its immediate aim in the negotiations – and
decided to put the proposed treaty in cold storage, to be taken out
should the need arise in the future. Ambassador Dhar advised his
Soviet interlocutors that the domestic political situation in India was
not conducive to an early conclusion of the treaty. He highlighted the
threat posed by ‘rightist reactionary’ elements to Indira Gandhi’s
leadership and suggested that the negotiations be placed on hold
until a more propitious moment. Once again, the Soviets were ready
to oblige, and the proposed treaty went into hibernation.
At the end of 1970, Indira Gandhi decided to break free from the
right-wing party bosses and force a formal division of the Congress
party. Reduced to a minority in parliament, she sought a fresh
electoral mandate. The Lok Sabha was dissolved and general
elections held in March 1971, more than a year ahead of schedule.
The result was a resounding victory for Mrs Gandhi’s Congress (I)
party, which won 350 out of a total of 515 seats, obtaining more than
a two-thirds majority in the Lok Sabha. The prime minister’s right-
wing opponents were decimated. The electoral verdict removed the
domestic political constraint that Ambassador Dhar had advanced as
the reason for putting Moscow’s treaty proposal in cold storage.
However, Indira Gandhi showed no interest in reviving the talks –
until the summer of 1971, when the logic of events left her with no
other option.

Compulsions of 1971
India had hoped, until July, to obtain support from both superpowers
in dealing with the East Bengal crisis. New Delhi had greater
expectations of the Soviet Union, but it also sought US sympathy
and support. As we saw in the previous chapter, in early April, Indira
Gandhi appealed to the Soviet leadership to consider a joint initiative
with the United States. Moscow was prompt in extending diplomatic
support, but it maintained a polite silence on the appeal for a joint
initiative with the United States. New Delhi had failed to understand
the cryptic reference in the Soviet reply to ‘unused possibilities’ for
developing bilateral ties.
The enigmatic phrase acquired clarity when Swaran Singh, who
had recently replaced Dinesh Singh as the foreign minister, visited
Moscow in early June 1971 to obtain an urgent assurance of Soviet
support in the event of Chinese intervention. Towards the end of May
1971, the Indian army had drawn up a draft outline plan for military
intervention in Bangladesh.19 The operation was to be launched not
earlier than mid-November, after winter conditions had closed the
passes on the China border, thus minimizing the risk of Chinese
intervention. Indian policymakers were, however, concerned about a
possible preemptive Pakistani strike, supported by China, before the
onset of winter. Swaran Singh’s purpose was to seek an urgent
assurance of support from Moscow in such a contingency. He did not
have a treaty or any other specific arrangement in view. As Kosygin
had shrewdly observed as early as in 1969, India would turn to the
Soviet Union for support if it feared a Chinese threat – treaty or no
treaty.
On the eve of Swaran Singh’s visit, Marshal Grechko reiterated his
call for an Indo-Soviet Treaty to a sympathetic Ambassador Dhar.
The Chinese, he said, ‘were aware that India was relatively militarily
weak. They could, therefore, afford to be aggressive, even insolent
and arrogant.’ Grechko made a forceful case for a treaty of mutual
assistance, which would act as a strong deterrent against aggression
by China or Pakistan.20
Swaran Singh deliberately ignored this strong hint and tried to skirt
the question of the treaty when he met Soviet Foreign Minister,
Gromyko on 7 June. He briefed Gromyko about the latest
developments in East Bengal, concluding that ‘a situation may arise
which may demand the entry of the Soviet Union into it in order to
counter the difficulties which may be created by Chinese support to
Pakistan. Perhaps even now you will have to consider some
appropriate steps by which the Chinese support to Pakistan can be
counter-balanced.’ The Soviet foreign minister seized on this appeal
to bring up the question of the treaty. He observed: ‘You have made
a very important and very useful statement . . . Some time ago we
had an exchange of views regarding the desirability of signing some
sort of a treaty . . . What do you think of the feasibility or otherwise of
resuming the exchange of views and ideas regarding the draft
Document?’
Swaran Singh reluctantly agreed that talks on the treaty could be
resumed, but he tried to separate the two issues, urging that priority
be given to his request. ‘While we are discussing and considering
this Document, we may be too late, events may overtake us. Can we
think of something quickly?’ he asked. Gromyko was unmoved, only
expressing his satisfaction over India’s readiness to resume
discussions on the treaty.
When he met Kosygin on the following day, Swaran Singh repeated
his request for Soviet support. India, he said, looked to the Soviet
Union to neutralize a Chinese military intervention in support of
Pakistan. Kosygin agreed that it was very possible that China would
want to fan tension and conflict, but was silent on the appeal for
assistance. Swaran Singh was not a man to give up easily. He
continued to dwell on the Chinese threat and on India’s
determination to defend itself if attacked. He concluded by
observing, ‘. . . we have no doubt that we can count on your help and
understanding’. Finally, Kosygin offered some words of assurance.
‘You can depend on us as your friends,’ he said.21 It was a general
assurance, but not the specific commitment sought by the Indian
foreign minister.
It was clear from these conversations that the Soviet Union was
ready to come to India’s assistance in the event of a Chinese attack
but that it wanted to base this on a formal treaty. The Indian side
tried to evade this issue, but did not offer a specific suggestion
regarding an alternative form of commitment, such as a simple
verbal understanding or a secret exchange of letters.
Foreign Secretary Kaul examined the options and concluded that a
formal treaty would be preferable. A mere verbal understanding was
inadequate. A secret exchange of letters would not serve as a
deterrent to China in the current developing situation. The best
option was a formal treaty providing for mutual consultations in the
event of a threat to national security, alongside a clause endorsing
India’s policy of non-alignment. He recommended that a treaty with
the Soviet Union be concluded at an early date, in order to deter
China from military intervention in the event of an Indo-Pakistan
conflict. Kaul submitted a revised Indian draft. This incorporated a
few minor amendments based on a comparison with the text of the
recently concluded UAR-USSR Treaty of Peace and Friendship, as
well as a major change (unacknowledged as such) reflecting India’s
heightened threat perception. At the end of the reference to
‘consultations’ in the crucial provision concerning response to an
attack or a threat against one of the signatories (Article 9 in the new
draft), Kaul now proposed to add the words ‘with a view to removing
the threat that may arise and ensuring peace’. This amendment
would go a long way in removing the most important difference
between the Indian and Soviet drafts.22
Thus, by June 1971, Swaran Singh had reluctantly agreed to
resume negotiations on a treaty that had been languishing in cold
storage for over a year and a half. In preparation for the negotiations,
senior officials had drawn up a revised Indian draft that partly
bridged the most important difference with the Soviet position.
However, even at this stage, with the possibility of an early
preemptive Pakistani attack in collusion with China, Indira Gandhi
withheld her approval. Unlike her father Jawaharlal Nehru, she rarely
spelled out her thoughts at length on official files. One can only infer
that she was reluctant to take a step that might adversely affect
India’s non-aligned image and her ties with the west. The prime
minister was still hopeful of securing US understanding and support
in the impending crisis.

White House reveals its hand


The situation changed radically on 15 July, with the dramatic
announcement of Kissinger’s secret trip to Beijing, via Pakistan, and
President Nixon’s planned visit to China. The Pakistani role added a
new dimension to the US–China entente. The Soviet ambassador in
Delhi met Foreign Secretary Kaul on the following day to urge him
that it had become more necessary than ever before to finalize the
treaty as a deterrent against Chinese, Pakistani or American designs
against India.23 Kaul needed no persuasion. On 17 July, he made
out a powerful case for the treaty in a note submitted to the foreign
minister and prime minister.
In light of the continued supply of American arms to Pakistan, the secret
visit of Kissinger to Peking from Pakistan and the possibilities of
normalization of relations between USA [and] the People’s Republic of
China and the likely entry of PRC into UN in the forthcoming session of the
General Assembly, the close alliance between Iran, Turkey and Pakistan,
and the support given by Algeria, Saudi Arabia and some other Muslim
countries to Pakistan on Bangladesh and the possibility of Pakistan
provoking a conflict with us in August or September, I would suggest that
we give immediate consideration to the Document and finalize it by the
15th August, if not earlier.24
The last straw came in the form of the Jha telegram, reporting
Kissinger’s warning that ‘[a] danger when we would be unable to
help you against China is that of an Indo-Pakistan conflict in which
China comes to Pakistan’s support’.25
After intensive discussions, a broad consensus emerged in New
Delhi. This was captured in a memorandum prepared by Kaul.
We had been stalling this idea [the proposed treaty] so far by prolonging
informal discussions between our Ambassador and the Soviet Government
. . . [O]ur Ambassador in USA has reported that there is every possibility of
America increasing arms supplies to Pakistan. Dr. Kissinger told him after
his return from Peking that America would not intervene in any conflict
between India and Pakistan even if China did so. This has changed the
whole perspective in which the Soviet proposal has to be considered . . .
[I]f the Sino-American detente works out successfully, there is no other
alternative left to us but to have a reliable friend in case of necessity. The
charge that non-alignment has left us friendless would be disproved. The
present Treaty does not conflict with our concept of non-alignment and
reaffirms the Soviet Government’s respect for our policy of non-alignment.
Non-alignment does not mean that if one’s security and territorial integrity
are threatened we cannot enter into any arrangements we may consider
necessary to meet and avert such a threat.26
On Mrs Gandhi’s instructions, the Indian draft underwent a
final revision. It was handed over to the Soviet side on 2 August by
Ambassador K.S. Shelvankar, who had recently replaced D.P. Dhar
in Moscow. Dhar himself, now the coordinator of India’s Bangladesh
policy, arrived in Moscow on 3 August. The treaty was finalized the
very next day in meetings between Dhar and Gromyko. The revised
Indian draft already accepted the Soviet wording on the central
clause (Article IX). The Soviets gave up their earlier reservations
concerning the incongruous non-aggression clause in the Indian text
and its reflection in the title by the insertion of the word ‘peace’
before ‘friendship and cooperation’. Soviet Foreign Minister Gromyko
flew to India on 8 August and signed the treaty the next day with his
Indian counterpart, Swaran Singh.
A senior Indian diplomat who had been involved in the drafting
exercise at an earlier stage offered his professional appraisal of the
final text. ‘Article 9 has just the right amount of substance and
shadow to confound our enemies and hearten our friends.’27
10. Working the Treaty

(August–October 1971)

Following the conclusion of the Indo-Soviet Treaty, Swaran Singh


began detailed discussions with Gromyko extending over four
sessions, from 9 August to 11 August 1971. He shared India’s
thinking about the crisis and spelled out his expectations from the
treaty with great candour.
In the opening session, Swaran Singh referred to the Pakistani
announcement that Mujib would be brought to trial on charges of
treason. Gromyko promptly agreed to do everything possible to
restrain Pakistan from proceeding on this course. He said the Soviet
Union fully understood and supported the steps taken by India in
international forums. It condemned the military repression in East
Pakistan and held the military junta responsible for the massive
influx of refugees into India. While assuring India of Soviet
understanding, Gromyko said he was confident that India would
show the utmost restraint and take all possible steps to prevent a
war. Swaran Singh replied that India wanted to prevent a war but the
possibility could not be ruled out, given the encouragement Pakistan
was receiving from China and the United States. He concluded the
first session by expressing the hope that Indo-Soviet consultations
might succeed in averting the tragedy of a war.1
Expanding on this theme in the next two sessions, the Indian
foreign minister said that Pakistan was likely to launch an attack
against India sometime between mid-September and mid-October.
Pakistan was well aware that it could not prevail against India
without Chinese intervention. Pakistan was thus likely to strike
before snowfall closed the Himalayan passes in November. A
second factor was the success achieved by the Bangladeshi
freedom fighters. The Mukti Bahini might be able to secure
permanent control over some areas. If this came to pass, the hawks
in Pakistan might treat it as justification for launching a war against
India. Intelligence reports indicated that the Pakistani junta was
thinking in terms of a war of two to three weeks’ duration. They had
stopped all leave to armed forces’ personnel, recalled their reservists
and had set up anti-aircraft defences around their airbases in West
Punjab. Information had also been received about the presence of
around 1,20,000 Chinese troops along the India–China border.
Swaran Singh said that in this situation, India expected the Soviet
Union to make prompt deliveries of required military supplies. India
also required assured supplies of oil and certain non-ferrous
materials needed by the defence industries. Iran had informed India
that it would cut off oil supplies to India in case of an Indo-Pakistan
conflict; other Gulf countries might follow suit. Since the Soviet Union
was buying Iraqi oil, it could easily ship this oil to India. Second,
Swaran Singh strongly urged Moscow to consider how it could
counteract Chinese military pressure on India’s borders. He
suggested this might perhaps be achieved by exerting countervailing
pressure on the Xinjiang border. This was particularly important,
since information had been received that the Chinese had diverted
three divisions from Inner Mongolia to Tibet. Swaran Singh also
proposed closer cooperation between the Indian and Soviet
intelligence agencies. Lists of Indian requirements for military
equipment, petroleum products and non-ferrous metals were handed
over to the Soviet side.2
In the final round of talks on 11 August, Swaran Singh went to the
heart of the problem. Taking Gromyko into confidence about India’s
contacts with Mujibnagar, he revealed that the latter felt they could
take control of substantial areas in the north and north-east of the
country by the end of August or, at the latest, by September. When
Gromyko inquired about the extent of the territories under Mukti
Bahini control, Swaran Singh pointed out certain areas on the map,
adding that some areas west of the Padma River might also come
under the control of the freedom fighters. The Soviet foreign minister
sought more details about the percentage of East Pakistan territory
under actual Mukti Bahini control. Defence Secretary K.B. Lall
clarified that though large areas were controlled by the Mukti Bahini,
continuous control of these areas had yet to be achieved by them.
The freedom fighters felt that full control would be achieved by the
end of September, but Lall himself felt that this was too optimistic an
assessment.
Swaran Singh observed that more substantial help would obviously
have to be given to the freedom fighters. This might even make it
necessary to accord recognition to Bangladesh. India’s recognition of
Bangladesh as an independent state would lead to a rupture of
diplomatic ties with Pakistan and also, perhaps, to a Pakistani attack
on India. Before taking such a step, India would like to know the
Soviet reaction. The Indian foreign minister explained that he was
raising these issues so that the two countries could carefully study
the implications of such a step and draw the necessary conclusions.
Swaran Singh emphasized the dangers of a long-drawn-out
liberation war. The longer it continued, the greater would be the
danger of power passing into the hands of pro-Chinese extremist
elements – an outcome that would not be in the interests of India,
the USSR or Bangladesh.
The Soviet foreign minister observed that this was the first time
India had presented the problem in such a frank and forthright
manner. He ‘understood’ the importance India attached to the
question, but he could not express an opinion since the question
required closer examination. Gromyko said that in order to make an
assessment of the situation, it was important to know whether the
Mukti Bahini was strong enough to prevail against the Pakistani
army. He asked some searching questions. Would the freedom
fighters be able to get control over sufficiently large areas? Would
they be able to prevent the Pakistani army from retaking these
areas? Had India sounded out friendly neighbours in South-east Asia
to ascertain whether they would support India on the question of
recognizing Bangladesh? Swaran Singh replied that India did not
want to sound out other countries without first consulting the Soviet
Union. Regarding the prospects of the Mukti Bahini, he said it was
difficult to give a detailed answer, but India believed that the 75
million people of Bangladesh were united in their freedom struggle
and that the Pakistani army would be unable to retain control of the
nation.3
These discussions revealed the extent, as well as the limits, of
Soviet support. Moscow was more than ready to make sure that the
treaty acted as a deterrent against a Pakistani attack or Chinese
intervention; indeed, it had been pressing for such a treaty for more
than two years. The Soviet Union was also prepared to attach top
priority to Indian requests for military supplies. It was ready to
provide diplomatic support in the form of public criticism of Pakistani
repression in the eastern wing, holding Pakistan responsible for the
flight of the refugees to India, and demanding that Islamabad release
Sheikh Mujib and negotiate a political solution with the elected
representatives of East Pakistan. However, Moscow envisaged a
political solution within the framework of a united Pakistan. It was not
ready – as yet – to support a secessionist movement.
An immediate result of the Indo-Soviet Treaty was stepped-up
diplomatic support for India, coupled with a hardening of Moscow’s
attitude towards Pakistan. Jamsheed Marker, the Pakistani
ambassador in Moscow, recalls that in August ‘. . . a new and
ominous element began to emerge in our relations with the Soviet
Union . . . the Soviets had begun to take the view that Pakistan was
likely to initiate hostilities with India in order to divert world opinion
from the internal disorder in East Pakistan’.4 Gromyko forcefully put
across the new Soviet stance when the Pakistani foreign secretary,
Sultan Mohammed Khan, visited Moscow in the first week of
September. Expressing regret over Pakistan’s failure to take steps to
solve the refugee problem, Gromyko underlined the point that the
‘refugees have spilled over the national border: the situation has thus
spilled over the normal framework of Pakistan–Indian relations’. The
refugee problem could not be solved unless the Pakistan
government stopped its policy of repression and persecution. ‘In this
situation, any steps against Mujibur Rahman would create new
difficulties . . . a severe sentence on Mujibur Rahman would be
denounced by the Soviet people and world public opinion.’ Referring
to Yahya’s statement that he would go to war if even a morsel of
East Pakistan territory came under Indian control, Gromyko said he
got the impression that ‘certain circles in Pakistan are not against
war’.5
The most powerful message delivered by Gromyko concerned the
Indo-Soviet Treaty. Ambassador Marker provides a vivid first-hand
account:
Speaking in Russian, Gromyko said that the Soviet leadership had taken
note of Yahya Khan’s statement and warned, ‘please do not take any
action that would oblige us to fulfil our obligations to a country with whom
we have a Treaty of Friendship’. At this point Gromyko stopped the
interpreter, and looking long, hard and directly at Sultan Khan, he said in
English, ‘The interpreter did not interpret me correctly. I did not use the
word “please”. I think you understand my meaning’.6

The Moscow Summit


True to their treaty obligations, the Soviets spared no effort to meet
India’s arms requirements and to dissuade Pakistan from embarking
on a military adventure. Soviet diplomatic support for India became
much more forceful after the conclusion of the treaty. However,
Moscow continued to visualize a political solution within the
framework of a united Pakistan. It turned a blind eye to Indian
involvement in the Bangladesh freedom struggle, but it was not
ready to support a secessionist movement. This posed a major
challenge to Indian diplomacy, what with the looming prospect of a
war before the end of the year.
Moscow’s principled opposition to intervention in a civil war was
subject to certain caveats. The Soviets took a more flexible position
in the case of a ‘war of national liberation’. This, in turn, was related
to their assessment of the political orientation of the freedom
fighters. Here, the Awami League was at a disadvantage: it was not
a pro-Soviet, left-wing party. Before 25 March, it had been in regular
touch with American diplomats and had relatively few contacts with
the Soviets. The Mujibnagar government was composed exclusively
of Awami League members; it offered no role for pro-Soviet parties
like the CPB and NAP(M), even though these parties were totally
committed to the freedom struggle and offered unconditional support
to Mujibnagar.
Indira Gandhi visited Moscow at the end of September 1971 with
the aim of changing the Soviet perception of the liberation war. The
message she wanted to convey was that war might be expected by
December, that the Bangladesh freedom struggle had the
characteristics of a ‘national liberation’ war and that its inevitable
outcome was the emergence of an independent state of Bangladesh.
It was in this context that she sought Soviet support under the
friendship treaty.
In advance of the Moscow summit, D.P. Dhar flew to Kolkata for
talks with the Mujibnagar authorities. As we saw in Chapter 4, Dhar
was able to strengthen Tajuddin’s hand and to persuade other
Awami League leaders to constitute a United Front with three
‘progressive’ parties – the CPB, NAP (M) and the Bangladesh
Congress Party. Recruitment to the Mukti Bahini was also opened up
for members of these parties. It was hoped that these changes,
desirable in themselves, would also produce a more benign Soviet
perception of the Bangladesh freedom struggle.
Dhar flew to Moscow in the last week of September to prepare the
ground for the prime minister’s visit. In his talks with Deputy Foreign
Minister Firyubin on 23–24 September, he left no doubt that India
expected war to break out before the end of the year. The Soviet
Union and India, he said, needed to consider what steps they should
take to deal with the situation. Firyubin was not prepared to accept
the inevitability of war. The Soviet position, he emphasized, was to
‘preserve peace by all means’. Moscow was ‘trying to influence
Pakistan to prevent a situation from developing into a catastrophe.
So I would pose your question [as to] what is to be done in a
different form. Are all possibilities exhausted for an alternative to the
solution which leads to a catastrophe? . . . Is there even a very small
possibility for a positive solution?’ Holding his ground, Dhar replied,
‘By all means let us pursue the paths of peace . . . If you are ready to
build on a small piece of hope, I am ready to build on practically
nothing. But I would not be your friend if I were not to tell you frankly
and sincerely that we do not see any hope and that we must prepare
for the worst.’7
Firyubin would not be dislodged from his advocacy of a peaceful
solution. When the talks were resumed on 24 September, he firmly
reiterated the Soviet position that the national interests of India and
Pakistan could be served only by a peaceful solution of their
problems. After contrasting India’s consistent pursuit of peace with
Pakistani bellicosity and its atrocities in East Bengal, Dhar
emphasized that ‘portents of a conflict are writ large over the
subcontinent’. Turning the broader geopolitical picture, he argued
that the United States and China were acting in concert to ensure
that India was contained as an insignificant nation, that the Soviet
Union was ousted from Asia and the Indo-Soviet Treaty reduced to
nought. Would such an outcome help the cause of peace, he asked,
or would it only help the ‘forces conspiring against us’?
Firyubin sought clarification of India’s views on three questions.
First, how would events develop till December? Second, would East
Pakistan break away from Pakistan? Third, what role did India
visualize for the Soviet Union in bringing about the ‘quick solution’ of
which Dhar had spoken? Dhar replied that with the onset of the dry
season, the Pakistani army would move out of its cantonments and
resume its severe repression in East Bengal. The refugee flood
would increase in intensity, vastly aggravating India’s problems.
Intelligence reports also indicated that Pakistan was planning a
preemptive attack in the western sector. Second, all objective
observers had come to the conclusion that East Bengal would not
remain a part of Pakistan. The real question was whether India and
the USSR would help the new nation to be friendly to them. Did India
and the Soviet Union possess the political wisdom to ensure that in
the new configuration of forces in South Asia, they are able to assist
in the birth, however painful, of the free and friendly nation of
Bangladesh? Regarding Firyubin’s last question, Dhar said it would
be presumptuous of him to attempt an answer. It was for the Soviet
Union to decide on its course of action. However, in his personal
capacity as a student of Soviet political philosophy and policy, he
would humbly say, ‘Support the oppressed!’8
On 28 September 1971, Indira Gandhi had two sessions of
meetings with the full Soviet troika – party General Secretary
Brezhnev, Supreme Soviet Chairman Podgorny and Chairman of the
Council of Ministers Kosygin. The presence of all three members
reflected the importance Moscow attached to the visit of the Indian
prime minister. In the plenary forenoon session, Mrs Gandhi appears
to have been constrained by the presence of the full delegations on
both sides. The Soviet leaders tried, without much success, to draw
her out in a frank discussion of India’s intentions. Brezhnev invited
her to share her thoughts about what should be done to solve the
problem confronting India. What were the options, and what
solutions did she suggest? Reluctant to show her hand in the
presence of a large number of officials, Mrs Gandhi only stated that it
was difficult to say what could be done at this late stage. The
situation might have been different if the international community had
pressured Pakistan at an earlier stage and if the United States had
withheld open support to Yahya Khan. One thing was clear: the
refugee exodus must be halted and conducive conditions must be
created for the return of the refugees to their homes. In this
connection, she rejected the UN secretary general’s proposal to
place UN observers on the Indian side of the border.
Brezhnev inquired if the UN could play a useful role. Indira Gandhi
replied that Pakistan was trying to raise the question in the UN in
order to convert its domestic crisis into a bilateral Indo-Pakistan
dispute. Pakistan wanted to divert international attention from the
Bangladesh freedom struggle. Indo-Pakistan talks could serve no
purpose; only the ‘Bangladesh government’ was competent to
negotiate with ‘West Pakistan’. Fruitful talks could be held if Mujibur
Rahman was released unconditionally.
Agreeing with Mrs Gandhi on the last point, Kosygin said that the
civil war was Pakistan’s problem. India had ‘only the one problem of
refugees and they must go back’. How would the situation develop?
As he understood it, India supported the Mujibnagar government.
Kosygin suggested: ‘. . . maybe we should work for a federation [of
the two wings of Pakistan] and independence could come later?’ Mrs
Gandhi said that it was for the people of East Bengal to decide if that
idea was acceptable; however, her impression was that the Pakistani
rulers had alienated these people so completely that it would be
difficult to persuade them to accept a federation.9
The leaders met again later in the day in a restricted session,
where the only officials present were Foreign Secretary Kaul on the
Indian side and two Russian interpreters. This permitted a freer
discussion.
Mrs Gandhi now said she greatly feared that in spite of all her efforts,
India might be drawn into a conflict. The country had to be fully
prepared to face the situation. This led Brezhnev to observe, ‘. . . we
have a more grave picture before us than we had before’. An
important point that had emerged from her observations was that the
‘provisional Government of Bangladesh’ would not accept anything
less than independence. Brezhnev, who seemed to be the most
sympathetic of the troika, conceded that the conflict in East Pakistan
‘may be, in some respects, a war of national liberation’, but he added
that since the Soviet Union recognized Pakistan as a single entity, it
could only view the conflict as a civil war. Kosygin urged that India
should not get involved in the Pakistani civil war. The East
Pakistanis, he warned, wanted to ‘shove on’ to India’s shoulders
their national conflict.
When Mrs Gandhi referred to the increasing domestic pressure on
her to recognize the provisional government of Bangladesh, each
member of the troika cautioned her against taking this step.
Brezhnev said that ‘rendering practical assistance to the guerrillas is
quite another question’, but extending formal recognition would close
the door to a political or negotiated solution. The reactions of
Pakistan, China, the US and other western countries had to be
considered. Formal recognition would precipitate a war and cause an
increase in the influx of refugees. Podgorny added that recognition
would not be timely if the freedom fighters were not in a position to
ensure their independence. Kosygin warned, ‘. . . once you are
drawn into it, it will be difficult to get out of such a conflict.’ He
proposed an alternative course of action: Soviet and Indian
diplomats could jointly work out measures to put pressure on
Pakistan to desist from assuming ‘provocative postures’.
‘Thinking aloud’, Brezhnev suggested a meeting between Mrs
Gandhi and Yahya Khan to discuss the return of refugees, stopping
of atrocities, etc. World public opinion, he added, would favour such
an initiative. The Indian prime minister rejected the proposal. ‘I doubt
if I could return to my country if I did this,’ she said. This was not an
Indo-Pakistan problem, she pointed out firmly.
Summing up the discussions, Brezhnev sought to distil some
‘common points’ that had emerged. He said that the two sides
shared a common desire to find a peaceful solution, though they
differed on the question of high-level Indo-Pakistan negotiations. He
assured the Indian prime minister of his ‘complete political support’.
He warned that it would be undesirable to recognize Bangladesh ‘at
present’, as this might create further complications, but this did not
mean that ‘our two countries will be at different poles’. He proposed
that the two foreign ministries should coordinate concrete measures.
The Soviet Union also needed some time to consider what measures
it could take to influence Pakistan and world opinion.10
The summit did not bridge the basic difference between the two
sides. The troika continued to insist on a negotiated settlement,
warning against the consequences of a war. The Indian prime
minister rejected outright Soviet suggestions concerning Indo-
Pakistan negotiations, insisting that negotiations on the future of
East Bengal could only be held between Pakistan and the Awami
League led by Mujibur Rahman. She warned that war seemed
imminent. However, despite these persisting differences, the summit
proved fruitful. The first chinks had begun to appear in the Soviet
diplomatic armour. Brezhnev had made a significant concession
when he acknowledged that ‘in some respects’ the Bangladesh
freedom struggle was a war of national liberation. (The sharp-eyed
Dhar took note that Podgorny had nodded in assent at this point.11)
This hesitant half-step opened up important new possibilities.
Second, the Soviet leaders were left in no doubt that India was
determined, one way or another, to ensure that the millions of
refugees who had fled across the border would be enabled to return
to their homeland. Moscow did not question this aim, even though it
was not yet ready to accept the inevitability of war.
These outcomes were reflected in the skilfully drafted joint
statement issued after the talks. In its English version, it spoke in
more than one place of ‘East Bengal’, while the Russian version
continued to refer to ‘East Pakistan’.12 (American diplomats did not
fail to notice the discrepancy. When Ambassador Keating inquired
about it, Foreign Secretary Kaul explained that it was mutually
agreed with the Soviets.13) The joint communique also called for a
solution ‘paying regard to the wishes, the inalienable rights and
lawful interests [emphasis added]’ of the people of East Bengal. Self-
determination is an ‘inalienable right’ in international law. To eyes
trained to read between the lines of diplomatic documents, the joint
communique hinted at a nuanced adjustment of the Soviet position
that the civil war in ‘East Pakistan’ was a purely domestic question.
Finally, the Soviet side ‘took into account’ the Indian prime minister’s
statement that ‘India is fully determined to take all necessary
measures’ to ensure the early return of the refugees to their
homeland, while reaffirming at the same time their own position as
expressed in Podgorny’s 2 April letter to Yahya Khan. The reference
in the joint statement to Mrs Gandhi’s position prompted the
Pakistani ambassador in Moscow, Jamsheed Marker, to speculate
whether the ‘Kremlin and New Delhi had arrived at a tacit
understanding that . . . armed Indian intervention, with full Soviet
material and diplomatic backing, was a possibility to be
considered’.14

Reassessment in Moscow
Indira Gandhi had made it clear to the troika that a peaceful solution
to the East Bengal crisis could only be found through direct
negotiations between the Pakistan government and Mujibur Rahman
or his representatives. Wanting to leave no stone unturned in its
quest for peace, Moscow decided to explore this unpromising option.
An opportunity presented itself in mid-October, when the Shah of
Iran held a grand celebration in Persepolis to mark the 2500th
anniversary of the founding of the Persian empire. A meeting was
duly arranged between Podgorny and Yahya Khan. The Soviet
president suggested to Yahya that he should release Mujib – ‘an
essential factor in any peace process’ – and secure his agreement
on future plans for the eastern wing. Everything would then fall into
its proper place. Yahya angrily rejected the proposal, stating that he
would never talk to the ‘traitor’. He referred to his own plans to bring
back normalcy in a few months. Podgorny replied sharply that the
next few months would only see more bloodshed: ‘Please, Mr
President, do not base your hope on plans which may not
materialize. You do not have unlimited time.’ It was an appeal as well
as a warning. Yahya dismissed it outright. ‘From then onwards,’
recalls Pakistani Foreign Secretary Sultan Khan, ‘Moscow became
increasingly hostile and its communications were openly threatening
in tone and content.’15
After Yahya’s rebuff, Moscow moved closer to New Delhi’s
assessment. Towards the end of October, Soviet Deputy Foreign
Minister Firyubin arrived in India for consultations. The agenda
covered specific issues of military supplies as well as general
considerations bearing on war and peace. During Indira Gandhi’s
Moscow visit, the Indian delegation had handed over to the Soviet
side a list of military equipment – including such items as armoured
personnel carriers, GRAD rocket launchers, heavy mechanical
bridges and Mi8 helicopters – that were originally scheduled for
delivery in 1972. The Indian delegation had requested that these
deliveries be expedited and the items supplied in 1971 itself with a
view to increasing India’s deterrence capacity.16 Firyubin brought a
favourable response to these requests, confirming that the most
urgent requirements would be airlifted if necessary.17
On the East Bengal question, Firyubin urged his hosts to pursue
their objectives by assisting the liberation movement but without
getting directly involved in a war with Pakistan. After Firyubin’s
discussions with Mrs Gandhi, Swaran Singh and Dhar, Counsellor
Purushottam, a shrewd analyst of Soviet policy, hazarded this
opinion:
Soviet support to us in the event of war may be expected to consist of (a)
the maintenance of essential supplies . . . (b) the maintenance of a regular
channel of communications between the two countries and
(c) close coordination with India at the United Nations . . . No clear idea
seems to have been given of possible Soviet action in case of involvement
of third countries in the situation …What I feel, however, is that … [the]
Soviet response to any third party involvement would be determined in full
realisation of … [the treaty] commitment.
In Purushottam’s view, Firyubin’s assurance of support was
‘unequivocal and explicit’ Firyubin’s discussions in New Delhi
reflected the ongoing evolution of Soviet thinking. After Persepolis,
Moscow had shed its hopes of a negotiated settlement between
Islamabad and the Awami League, but it had yet to accept the full
implications of the impossibility of a peaceful resolution. It took that
final step at the end of November.18
11. Indira Gandhi Visits Western Capitals

It was evident by October 1971 that the international community was


not prepared to exert the pressure required to compel Yahya Khan to
seriously address the refugee problem and come to terms with the
Awami League. The United States, the country exercising the
greatest influence in Islamabad, not only refused to press Yahya
Khan to adopt any measure that he might find unpalatable but failed
even to condemn the brutal suppression of human rights in East
Bengal. The flow of refugees into India continued unabated,
imposing intense economic and social stress in India’s eastern
provinces. In September, with the end of the rainy season, there was
a sharp rise in tensions along India’s eastern borders. Mukti Bahini
operations expanded dramatically, precipitating frequent border
clashes, while Pakistan began to strengthen its troop deployment
along India’s western borders.
On 12 October, US ambassador Kenneth Keating called on
Foreign Minister Swaran Singh to convey Washington’s concern over
the increasing risk of war between Pakistan and India. He said the
United States had specific information that 40,000 Mukti Bahini
fighters were poised to cross the border by mid-October, with
another 20,000 following at the end of the month. Mukti Bahini
operations on this scale could not be achieved without Indian
support. If this report was correct, Pakistan would make a military
response in the west. Nobody could accuse India of initiating the
problem, but India had a responsibility – of preventing it from
escalating into war. Keating warned that if war were to break out, it
would have a serious impact on Indo-US relations. Therefore, in
order to reduce the danger of an Indo-Pakistan conflict, the United
States proposed that both India and Pakistan should (a) pull back
forces from the border; and (b) place curbs on parties involved in
cross-border operations on the eastern and western borders.
Swaran Singh asked if he had understood Keating correctly to say
that Indo-US relations would be adversely affected if Pakistan were
to attack India in retaliation for the success of the freedom fighters
and India were to defend itself against the Pakistani attack. He
rejected the description of Mukti Bahini actions as ‘cross-border’
operations, pointing out that most of these actions took place deep
inside East Bengal. ‘When history judges these events, it will
attribute to you the greatest responsibility for this situation, for your
military and political support to the [Pakistani] military junta . . . To
start at this point without going into the chain of events is to distort
reality,’ he said.1 The US proposal failed to address the root cause of
the crisis – the brutal suppression of the people of East Bengal by
the Pakistan army.
Such was the state of play when Indira Gandhi embarked on a tour
of the major western capitals of London, Paris, Bonn, Vienna,
Brussels and Washington. She offered a bland, low-key explanation
for her tour. ‘Our country is facing danger,’ she declared in a national
broadcast. ‘Yet, after much thought, I decided to undertake the
journey. The invitations were of long standing and it seemed
important in the present situation to meet leaders of other countries
for an exchange of views and to put to them the reality of our
situation.’2
As we saw earlier, on the eve of her departure, she confided her
aim to the Bangladesh leaders, Syed Nazrul Islam and Tajuddin
Ahmed. She informed them that she was going to make a final
appeal to the international community to push for a peaceful and
urgent solution to the crisis but that she was not optimistic about the
outcome. A final solution, she confided, might have to be found
through other means.
In each of the capitals she visited, the Indian prime minister would
explain why the East Bengal crisis could only be resolved through
negotiations between Islamabad and Mujib’s Awami League and
why India rejected proposals that treated the question as an Indo-
Pakistan issue. These included proposals for mutual troop
withdrawals, stationing of UN observers on the border, and offers of
‘good offices’ between
India and Pakistan. She would highlight the threat to India’s security
resulting from Pakistan’s policy of ‘exporting’ its internal political
problem by driving millions of refugees into India. She would seek
international support for India’s stand, while indicating that India
would not be deterred from defending her security.
Apart from projecting India’s stand on the crisis, Indira Gandhi also
had a specific objective – to dissuade America’s European allies
from toeing the US line at the United Nations.3 This applied
particularly to the two permanent members of the Security Council,
the UK and France. Mrs Gandhi had few expectations from her
Washington visit, but she needed to reciprocate Nixon’s 1969 visit to
India. Moreover, after her visits to Moscow, London, Paris and other
capitals, exclusion of Washington from her itinerary would have
caused undesirable speculation.

United Kingdom
In London, Mrs Gandhi had a one-to-one meeting with Prime
Minister Edward Heath on 31 October. Heath broached the question
of mutual withdrawal of troops and posting of UN observers in border
areas to prevent a conflict. Indira Gandhi explained why India
rejected these suggestions, emphasizing that an agreement between
Islamabad and the Awami League was required to resolve the crisis
peacefully. Asked about the possible outcome of such talks, she said
that she was not sure if Mujib would settle for anything less than
independence. She also indicated that she did not see how she
could continue to hold back the great domestic pressures she faced
and said she feared that war might break out. Heath asked the
Indian prime minister to keep him informed if the situation
deteriorated.4
The British side explored the question of a dialogue and political
settlement in greater detail the next day, when Foreign Secretary
Douglas-Home called on Mrs Gandhi. Douglas-Home inquired what
sort of a political solution would suit India best. The Indian prime
minister began by recalling that Islamabad had used East Pakistan
as a base for Naga, Mizo and other anti-India insurgencies.
‘However, the situation in East Bengal is now so chaotic that it
causes us serious concern which we cannot tolerate. Naxalites on
our side have taken advantage of the situation.’ Referring to the
1938 Munich Agreement with Hitler, she observed that no lasting
solution could be found by ‘buying peace’. ‘We feel that had the
world community taken greater interest in matters as they
developed, they could have helped to bring the situation under
control, but its failure to take positive action only made matters
worse.’ When the British foreign secretary raised the question of a
dialogue, Mrs Gandhi replied that a dialogue could take place only
between Yahya and the Bangladesh leaders.5
Following these candid discussions, Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul
and his counterpart, Sir Dennis Greenhill, met to analyse the
implications of the talks that had taken place at the higher political
levels. Greenhill said that some of Mrs Gandhi’s statements
indicated that war was perhaps now inevitable. He asked what role
India expected third countries to play in the event of hostilities and
what position India would take on any intervention by the United
Nations. To the first question, Kaul gave the guarded reply that India
did not want war, but that if it was attacked India would be compelled
to fight. He was blunt in his answers to the other questions. If war
broke out, India would not be in a position to accept a return to the
status quo in East Bengal. India saw no reason why other countries
should get involved. ‘We would also react very strongly against any
attempt to equate India and Pakistan. We hope that the British
government would not react in the manner it did in 1965,’ he
observed pointedly.6 (This was a reference to Prime Minister
Wilson’s pro-Pakistan tilt during the 1965 Indo-Pakistan war, which
he later acknowledged was a misstep.)
These candid discussions proved fruitful. Heath wrote to Yahya
Khan on 9 November asking him to consider releasing Mujib and
holding negotiations with the Awami League. (Yahya rejected the
appeal, stating that it was impossible for him to negotiate with Mujib.)
At the end of the month, Heath told members of the Cabinet
Committee on Defence and Overseas Policy that ‘. . . in the long run
our interest probably lay more with India than Pakistan’, adding, ‘. . .
we should take care not to repeat our 1965 experience when . . . we
had suffered maximum disadvantage without compensating benefit
from either side’.7

France
In Paris, too, the Indian prime minister found a positive response.
President Pompidou went through the motions of sounding her out
on mutual troop withdrawals along the Indo-Pakistan borders, the
UN secretary general’s offer of his good offices, and direct talks
between
Mrs Gandhi and Yahya Khan. He did not press these suggestions
after Mrs Gandhi explained India’s firm position. The discussions in
Paris proved very productive. The French side agreed that a
peaceful resolution could be found only if Mujib were released from
prison and negotiations held with him. Pompidou offered to write to
Yahya in this sense. Paris also agreed that the emergence of an
independent Bangladesh was only a matter of time.8 The French
president kept his word. On 18 November, the French ambassador
in Islamabad handed over a letter from Pompidou to Yahya Khan
calling for Mujib’s release and suggesting that negotiations be held
with the Awami League. Yahya angrily rejected these suggestions.9

Federal Republic of Germany


In her talks with Chancellor Willy Brandt in Bonn, Indira Gandhi went
over the same ground on the questions of mutual troop withdrawals
and mediation between India and Pakistan. Brandt was sympathetic
when Gandhi emphasized that a peaceful solution could be found
only if Mujib were released from prison and negotiations resumed
with the Awami League. The chancellor agreed to write to Yahya
seeking Mujib’s release.10 Haksar and Kaul took up with West
German officials the question of their bracketing India with Pakistan
in the matter of the arms embargo. They asked that the embargo on
exports to India be lifted and that all previous commitments to India
be honoured. Following
Mrs Gandhi’s visit, Brandt issued orders for resumption of arms
deliveries to India, while keeping in place the embargo against
Pakistan.11

Austria and Belgium


The visits to Vienna and Brussels were of less consequence. The
Austrian president and chancellor both expressed great sympathy
and understanding the Indian position, but pleaded their inability to
take a public position in view of their former Foreign Minister Kurt
Waldheim’s candidature for the post of UN secretary general.12 In
Brussels, Mrs Gandhi’s talks with Prime Minister Gaston Eyskens
commenced on unexpected lines. Eyskens, a former economics
professor, launched on a lengthy discourse on international
economic issues, taking up most of the available time. This was not
the subject at the top of the Indian prime minister’s agenda, but she
took the opportunity to seek and obtain Belgian support for
expediting a pending economic and commercial agreement between
India and the European Economic Community (EEC). Finally,
Eyskens turned to what he described as the ‘refugee problem’. This
gave Mrs Gandhi an opportunity to explain that, apart from the
economic burden of coping with the refugee influx, the continued
presence of millions of refugees imposed unbearable social and
political stresses on India. ‘I am sitting on a volcano,’ she said. She
gave a negative reply when the Belgian premier asked about the
possibility of the UN organizing repatriation of the refugees. This led
Eyskens to reflect that the ‘only way out is to grant greater autonomy
but, of course, this is an internal problem of Pakistan’. When Mrs
Gandhi pointed out the implications for India’s security, Eyskens
modified his position, and said, ‘Although theoretically it is an internal
problem for Pakistan, there have been examples where the UN has
intervened in similar circumstances, as for example, in Angola,
Mozambique, the Portuguese colonies and South Africa. Perhaps
the UN can consider some action.’13 The Belgian prime minister’s
observations on East Bengal ended on that erratic and inconclusive
note.
United States
Writing to Kaul in mid-August, L.K. Jha reported:
The most significant feature of Indo-American relations in the recent past
has been that in terms of public opinion, Press and media response and
Congressional support, we have reached an unprecedented high water
mark, while in terms of relations with the Administration, we have reached
a particularly low ebb . . . The attitude of the Administration is based largely
on the President’s personal reaction to India. He has a feeling that he is
personally not liked by Indians and that supporters of India in this country
have always worked against him . . . He is pleased with the kind of homage
the Pakistanis always pay him.14
In the course of preparations for Mrs Gandhi’s US visit, Jha alerted
New Delhi to the state of affairs in the Washington bureaucracy:
In the higher echelons of the State Department, there is no particular
knowledge or experience of South Asia. The lower echelons, both on the
India Desk and on the Pakistan Desk, have supported our view-point, i.e.,
cut off military supplies to Pakistan, suspend economic aid, pressurize
Yahya Khan to end military action and negotiate a political settlement with
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. As early as May-June 1971, they had argued that
the old Pakistan would be hard to put together. The Pentagon had
independently formulated the same judgement.
The President brushed these views aside. His senior political advisers
(Kissinger, Rogers, Sisco and Irwin) had neither the expertise nor the
inclination to try to mould the President’s judgement. The continuance of
the military supply pipeline and economic assistance to Pakistan was
personally ordered by him in late May and reaffirmed in June and again in
August.
Leakages of confidential information were taking place from the Pakistan
desk of the State Department and the entire personnel of that desk was
changed beginning with July.15
Both Nixon and Mrs Gandhi approached their encounter with some
apprehension. Nixon confided to British Foreign Secretary Douglas-
Home his fear that the Indian prime minister might ‘come in here
and, frankly, pull our legs’.16 Mrs Gandhi had similar concerns. After
meeting her, John Kenneth Galbraith told Kissinger that she was
uncertain about the reception she would get in Washington. One of
her aides had told him that she was apprehensive about some kind
off ‘brush-off’ in the US capital.17
When the two leaders commenced their discussions on 4
November, they concealed their mutual distrust behind an elaborate
screen of courtesies. Nixon addressed Mrs Gandhi as an ‘old friend’.
(He commonly described her as a ‘bitch’ in conversations with close
associates.) Indira Gandhi reciprocated with equally insincere
expressions of admiration for Nixon’s China and Vietnam initiatives.
Getting down to business, Nixon made a skilful presentation of his
Pakistan policy, emphasizing that initiation of hostilities between
India and Pakistan was ‘unacceptable’. For this very reason, he
argued, it was imperative for the United States to retain influence
with Pakistan. His policy was shaped by this factor. The US military
assistance progamme had been retained in a ‘most limited fashion’
in this context. Regarding the refugee problem, the United States
aimed to be as ‘helpful as possible without interjecting itself into the
internal affairs of the parties’.
Nixon proceeded to outline the positive impact of US initiatives.
First, in June–July, it had ‘persuaded’ Pakistan that a famine would
occur in East Pakistan unless massive preventive steps were taken.
Also, as a result of US pressure, Yahya Khan had given up his initial
opposition to an international relief presence in East Pakistan. US–
Pakistani and UN efforts had succeeded in preventing a widespread
famine, which might have further exacerbated the exodus of ‘Moslem
refugees’ and added to India’s burdens. Second, at the US urging,
Yahya had appointed a civilian governor in East Pakistan and had
announced an amnesty for persons of all creeds. Third, the US had
obtained an assurance from Yahya that Mujib would not be
executed. Fourth, at US’s urging, Yahya had agreed to pull back
some troops from India’s western border as a first step to de-
escalation. Finally, word had just been received from Yahya that he
was prepared to hold direct ‘discussions’ with ‘cleared’ Awami
League leaders, to meet a Bangladesh leader from Kolkata and to
consider the US suggestion that Mujib be allowed to designate the
representative.
Nixon said he recognized that ‘in the long run Pakistan must
acquiesce in the direction of greater autonomy for East Pakistan’, but
the US could not urge Yahya to accept policies that would result in
his overthrow. He asked rhetorically whether Mrs Gandhi believed
Yahya could really survive if he were to release Mujib at this point in
time. Nixon said the greatest danger would arise if either India or
Pakistan were to consider military action to seek a solution that ‘only
an historical process can settle’. He concluded by warning the Indian
prime minister that an Indo-Pakistan conflict might not be limited to
just the two countries; it would have ‘implications and possibly great
dangers for the whole framework of world peace. The American
people would not understand if India were to initiate military action
against Pakistan.’
Indira Gandhi had no intention of either negotiating with Nixon or
confronting him. Her plans were already drawn up. Avoiding a
specific reply to the points raised by Nixon, her response took the
form of some general observations on South Asian developments
since the partition of British India. Pakistan had attacked India in
1947 and again in 1965, employing, on the latter occasion, arms
provided by the US. Since then, US arms shipments to Pakistan had
become a very sensitive issue in Indian politics. Despite the
government’s attempts to restrain public outrage, this factor could
not but affect the stand of the Indian government towards the US.
She contrasted the repressive policies of Pakistani governments in
response to demands for greater autonomy in Baluchistan and the
North-West Frontier with the forbearance shown by India towards its
own separatist elements. West Pakistan had dealt with the people of
East Bengal in a treacherous and deceitful way and had always
confined them to an inferior role. She went on to describe in detail
the atrocities inflicted on the people of East Bengal. Despite all these
oppressive measures, the Pakistani army had been unable to re-
establish control over the area and it was no longer realistic to
expect East and West Pakistan to remain united. The prime minister
stressed the crucial role of Mujib in any search for a settlement.
Finally, the prime minister referred to the threat to India’s security
resulting from Pakistani actions. She said her main concern was the
impact on India itself.18
Mrs Gandhi deliberately chose not to engage on the specific points
raised by Nixon.
There were no further discussions on the East Bengal crisis
between Mrs Gandhi and Nixon. As previously agreed, the agenda
for the final session meeting on 5 November dealt with global
developments, including the US opening with China, Vietnam, the
Middle East and US–USSR relations. However, officials of the two
sides, led by Kaul and Undersecretary of State Irwin, met to seek
further clarification of each other’s positions. Mrs Gandhi had chosen
not to respond to Nixon’s suggestion regarding talks between
Islamabad and ‘cleared’ Awami League representatives. Irwin
explored with Kaul the possibility of a dialogue between Islamabad
and an Awami League representative. When Kaul inquired which
Awami League leader Irwin had in mind, a State Department official
replied that Khondaker Mushtaque Ahmed might fit the role. Kaul
dismissed the suggestion, saying that he doubted whether
Mushtaque had the authority to negotiate on behalf of Bangladesh.
Kaul showed greater interest in a dialogue between nominees of
President Yahya and Sheikh Mujib, though he emphasized that only
the Bangladesh government-in-exile could take a decision on this
question. India could not speak for the people of Bangladesh. The
Bangladesh government insisted that Sheikh Mujib must be released
from prison. Kaul inquired whether Mujib’s nominee would be
allowed to meet the incarcerated Bangladesh leader. What faith
could the Bangladesh authorities have in negotiations, he asked,
when Islamabad had announced that fresh – and obviously
fraudulent – elections would be held in December to replace the
freely elected representatives of the people of East Bengal? (Since
Kaul had not rejected the proposal for talks between nominees of
Yahya and Mujib, the State Department instructed US ambassador
to Pakistan Farland to explore the proposal with the Pakistani
president. Farland reported on 18 November that Yahya had rejected
the proposal.19) Kaul, on his part, sought clarification on a point of
critical interest to India. Stressing the urgency of a political
settlement, he inquired about the time frame Washington had in
mind. Irwin replied, ‘We have no time schedule in mind.’20
The dazzling brilliance of Kissinger’s memoirs obscures its factual
errors. Kissinger claims in White House Years that the United States
‘. . . accepted autonomy as inevitable and independence as probable
. . . Bangladesh would come into being by the spring of 1972 if
procedures were given a chance’. He suggests that Washington was
ready to work with India on issues like securing Mujib’s release. He
says that in the talks with Mrs Gandhi, Nixon ‘. . . stressed his
conviction that the outcome was bound to be autonomy for East
Pakistan leading to independence’.21 The archival records, however,
suggest that Kissinger is parsimonious with the truth. The White
House memorandum recording the discussions between Nixon and
Mrs Gandhi does not support any of these claims. Far from offering
to work with India to secure Mujib’s release, the record shows that
Nixon rejected the idea, saying that he could not be expected to
propose a step that might lead to Yahya’s fall from power. Nixon did
not indicate that Bangladesh would become independent at any
stage; he spoke only of ‘greater autonomy’ in the ‘long run’ and
suggested that a resolution of the problem should be left to a
‘historical process’. Irwin confirmed to Kaul that the United States
had no particular time frame in mind for a political settlement of the
East Bengal crisis.
Kissinger also omits to mention that within days of Mrs Gandhi’s
visit, he and Nixon came to recognize the bankruptcy of their
Pakistan policy. On 5 November, US Aid Coordinator for Pakistan
Maurice Williams filed a devastating report on his recent visit to that
country:
The reality is that Army policies and operations – behind the façade of a
civilian government – are progressively and seriously alienating the Bengali
population in East Pakistan . . . As Military Advisor, he [Major General Rao
Farman Ali Khan] sits in the Governor’s house and runs the province on
behalf of the Governor. My call on General Farman Ali Khan October 25th
interrupted a meeting with some ten of his military colleagues. They were,
he said, selecting the men who would be elected in the next Provincial
elections . . . Pakistan Army commanders continue to carry out terror raids
against the population and villages.
Williams’ final conclusion was:
All official American suggestions are immediately taken seriously and lead
to major policy statements by President Yahya Khan in Islamabad. The
result is ‘public relations diplomacy’, but it is important not to confuse the
form with the substance of policy. Elections, political accommodation,
welcoming the return of all refugees, amnesty – these are fine policy
pronouncements, but their implementation is in the hands of Army
commanders who govern the Eastern Province, and these Army
commanders do not as yet appear to be subject to foreign influences.22
Shaken by the report, Kissinger drew the president’s attention to its
highlights, suggesting that ‘it may be time to add a new chapter in
our strategy toward Pakistan . . . If President Yahya’s own electoral
process and the practices of his army will not win wide enough
support to defuse the guerrilla campaign, the question then arises
what other political steps he might take to establish a viable political
alternative to the guerrilla’s demand for independence.’ Nixon
recorded a marginal note: ‘K – This is now imperative give me a
recommendation.’23 In the event, however, there was no policy
change. The White House remained committed to a policy that it
knew was doomed to fail.
On her return to India, Mrs Gandhi made a statement in parliament
on 15 November concerning her foreign tour. She made no
exaggerated claims of success. The prime minister said that she had
put across to heads of government and makers of public opinion the
threat posed to India’s stability and regional peace by the situation
prevailing in Bangladesh. Her discussions had helped to highlight the
‘root cause’ of the problem – the refusal of the Pakistani military
regime to respect the electoral verdict, the reign of terror let loose on
the people of Bangladesh by the Pakistani army, and the resultant
influx of refugees into India. The countries she had visited realized
that a political solution should be found through negotiations with the
elected leaders of the people of Bangladesh. ‘Most’ of them also
realized the importance of securing Sheikh Mujib’s release, and they
intended to convey this to Pakistan. The prime minister also said that
she had ‘exposed’ Pakistan’s efforts to sidetrack the basic issue by
seeking to involve the United Nations, so as to convert the
Bangladesh struggle into an Indo-Pakistan confrontation. Making a
special reference to the UK, the prime minister said, ‘I think my visit
also helped to restore our relations with Britain which had suffered a
serious setback in 1965.’
‘We cannot depend on the international community . . . to solve our
problems for us,’ she emphasized. India appreciated moral and
political support from other countries, but the ‘brunt of the burden
has to be borne by us and the people of Bangladesh, who have our
fullest sympathy and support’. There was no chest-thumping or
striking of theatrical postures in her speech. The prime minister
exuded an air of quiet resolve. ‘Calmness of spirit and strength go
together,’ she said. ‘India is calm and we are capable of taking
decisions in defence of our security and stability.’
By this time, Mrs Gandhi scarcely bothered to conceal her
conviction that a solution based on a united Pakistan was no longer
on the cards. Thus, in an interview to Newsweek magazine, she
said, ‘. . . it is our assessment that East Bengal cannot remain united
with Pakistan ever again in the same way it has been’.24
Right from the beginning of the crisis, Indira Gandhi had made a
special effort to take leaders of the opposition parties into confidence
and, by and large, they had reciprocated her trust. Their calls for
immediate action were not designed to force her hand; rather, they
strengthened her hand in international negotiations. In her speech in
parliament on 15 November, the prime minister thanked ‘. . . all the
political parties who have shown wisdom and restraint and kept the
nation united against any external threat’.25
12. Prelude to War

By mid-November, most of the pieces on the chessboard of India’s


grand strategy had been moved into position. This was ensured by
planned moves on the political, military and diplomatic fronts. On the
home political front, a herculean effort was made to provide shelter
and sustenance to some 10 million refugees. The inevitable tensions
between refugees and host communities competing for living space
and jobs were successfully contained, and most importantly, the
central and state authorities had ensured maintenance of communal
harmony, at a time when millions of Hindus were being driven across
the border by the Pakistan army. On the military front, hand in hand
with the Mujibnagar authorities, the Indian army had trained and
equipped a vast army of freedom fighters, who were making their
presence felt all over the East Bengal countryside. Indian troop
movements to the eastern border had commenced in October. On
the diplomatic front, India had taken prompt action to countervail an
unforeseeable ‘geo-political revolution’ and an emerging quasi-
alliance between Pakistan, the United States and China.

Post-war planning
On her return from the United States, Indira Gandhi met with the
Bangladesh leaders Syed Nazrul Islam and Tajuddin Ahmed on 16
November to pick up the threads from their discussions on the eve of
her tour to the western capitals. The Indian prime minister briefed the
Bangladesh leaders on her talks in Europe and the United States.
This was followed by a survey of developments on the liberation war
front.1
Following up on these discussions, D.P. Dhar arrived in Kolkata on
19 November for detailed consultations with Tajuddin and senior
Mujibnagar officials. These wide-ranging discussions covered not
only questions of military cooperation to bring the liberation struggle
to a speedy and successful conclusion, but also planning for the
immediate post-liberation months. Dhar also addressed a question
that is often overlooked by military planners – of bringing the Indian
troops back home within a specific time frame. He emphasized that
India wanted to withdraw its forces from Bangladesh as soon as
possible after its liberation, lest it should lose the goodwill it had
earned. He spelled out his question in clear terms: how soon, in the
opinion of his interlocutors, would India be able to withdraw its forces
from Bangladesh? The Mujibnagar authorities replied that the
answer depended on several factors. If Pakistan resorted to a
‘scorched earth’ policy, or if it still retained a capacity to pose a
continuing threat to an independent Bangladesh, Dhaka might
require an Indian military presence on Bangladesh for a longer
period. In the absence of these complications, it might be hoped that
the Bangladesh government would be able to cope with the situation
within three or four months. This period would be shortened if Sheikh
Mujib was freed from his Pakistani prison and allowed to return to
Bangladesh to lead his country.
Dhar’s question also led to a discussion of other formidable
problems that would confront post-liberation Bangladesh. Foremost
of these was the restoration of law and order in a country where this
had ceased to exist and which was awash with arms. A large
number of freedom fighters would have to be disarmed after
liberation and given opportunities for their absorption into nation-
building tasks. Weapons would also have to be recovered from the
criminal Razakar bands armed by the Pakistanis. Then there was the
massive problem of speedily repatriating and rehabilitating some 10
million Bangladeshi refugees from India. The communications
infrastructure – roads, bridges, railways and ports – damaged during
the liberation war would have to be made functional as soon as
possible. Distribution of foodstuff and other essential commodities
would have to be ensured. The administrative system, disrupted by
the war, would have to be restored.2 The scope and scale of the
required operations were nothing less than heroic. The speedy
restoration of normalcy in post-liberation Bangladesh was a tribute to
the foresight of the planners.
As the Mujibnagar government addressed these challenges in the
latter half of November 1971, it sought New Delhi’s assistance where
necessary. Virtually every department of the Government of India –
cabinet secretariat, PMO, defence ministry, home ministry, planning
commission, railways, shipping, food and agriculture, and health,
among others – closely cooperated with the Mujibnagar government
in drawing up plans for a post-war Bangladesh. A flavour of these
consultations emerges from the agenda of Mujibnagar Cabinet
Secretary Imam’s discussions on 19 November with D.K.
Bhattacharya, joint secretary in the PMO, who had flown over to
Kolkata for the meeting. The list of issues raised by Imam included
restoration of law and order; provision of essential commodities;
rehabilitation of displaced persons; provision of essential health
services; and civil–military relations.3

Military moves
As we saw in Chapter 5, the rising tempo of Mukti Bahini operations
brought about a major shift in Pakistan’s military deployments in East
Bengal. The Pakistan army decided in mid-September 1971 to adopt
a forward posture of defence, with the aim of preventing the Mukti
Bahini from carving out a liberated zone. This envisaged the defence
of important border outposts – to prevent ingress by the Mukti Bahini
and deny a secure territorial base to them. Troops were redeployed
to the border from the ‘Dhaka bowl’. Other interior strongholds and
reserves were also depleted. This fell in with the Indian strategy of
drawing Pakistani forces to the border, bypassing their fortified
defensive positions, paralysing the opponent by destroying the
Pakistani command and control network, and crossing the Padma
and Meghna rivers as opportunity arose to advance on Dhaka in
support of the main thrust from the north.4 Thus the Mukti Bahini
operations prepared the ground for a rapid advance by regular
forces.
The intensification of coordinated actions by the Indian army and
the Mukti Bahini necessitated an understanding regarding the line of
command and control. Following informal discussions, the
Mujibnagar cabinet decided towards the end of October to place
Bangladesh forces under the command of Indian army formations.
Col. Osmani, commander-in-chief of the Bangladesh forces, initially
objected to this arrangement, but finally fell in with the views of the
cabinet.5 This decision was the precursor to the Joint Command
formed after the outbreak of war.
With the intensification of Mukti Bahini cross-border operations in
October, the scale and intensity of the Pakistani response registered
a corresponding increase. Indian border outposts came under heavy
shelling from Pakistani artillery. In response to this development,
New Delhi decided in November to allow the Indian army to cross
the border up to a distance of 10 miles in order to silence Pakistani
guns. In carrying out these instructions, the army also took care to
secure specific positions that would strengthen its offensive posture,
with an eye on the impending war.6
This led to some major battles between Indian and Pakistani
troops, involving significant casualties on both sides. On 20
November, Indian forces launched an operation in the Boyra area, in
the course of which Pakistan lost fourteen tanks and three aircraft.
On 23 November, a determined attack was launched against the
Pakistani forces in Hilli on 23 November, on orders from Manekshaw.
In the heavy fighting that ensued, Indian losses included sixty-seven
killed and ninety wounded. Indian forces were able to register some
advances, but Pakistan held onto Hilli itself till the outbreak of war.
Maj. Gen. Jacob summed up his assessment of the net effect of the
November operations:
Pakistanis were thrown off balance and our strategy of drawing the
Pakistanis to the border began to work. We secured suitable jumping off
places, particularly where obstacles had to be crossed, and such
operations also gave our troops realistic initiation into battle.7
A Pakistani military analyst offers a similar assessment:
By November 20, we [Pakistanis] had lost most of the border outposts
. . . Indian forces had established their forward bases inside our territory to
facilitate offensive operations.8
Yahya Khan reacted to these developments by accusing India on
22 November of launching an ‘all-out attack against East Pakistan’.
He proclaimed a state of national emergency the following day.
India and the superpowers
The intensification of the crisis in November led to a further
crystallizing of American and Soviet positions. Nixon’s ‘tilt’ towards
Pakistan became more pronounced while Moscow shed its
reservations about a direct Indian role in the liberation war.

United States
As tensions mounted in South Asia, the State Department
recommended a balanced approach. In a meeting chaired by
Kissinger on 22 November, Deputy Secretary of State Irwin
proposed two parallel initiatives: to persuade Yahya to open a
dialogue with Mujib’s designated representatives, and to bring up the
issue in the UN. The first proposal was aimed at promoting an
internal settlement of the crisis, while the other was designed to
restrain India from carrying out operations across the international
border. Kissinger immediately shot down the first proposal. ‘Because
Yahya has been attacked, you would bring pressure on Yahya?’ he
asked sarcastically. ‘[If] Yahya does not agree to talk to Mujib, we
would be contributing to putting Yahya in the wrong.’9 The proposal
for approaching the UN was examined in detail and was dropped
later, on the ground that while it might restrain India, it would
probably also bring the internal situation in East Pakistan under the
spotlight. It was decided to leave it to Pakistan to choose the timing
of an appeal to the UN.10
In view of the differences between Kissinger and Irwin, Secretary of
State Rogers and Kissinger met Nixon on 24 November to seek his
instructions. Rogers proposed that the United States should urge
restraint on both sides at the highest level ‘so that everyone can look
at the record and see that we have done everything we can
diplomatically’.
‘The leverage we have on India is very minimal. If we decide to
take some action against them, which you might decide to do, it
would be symbolic rather than substantive,’ he added. Nixon did not
contest this evaluation, but he remained steadfast in calling for a ‘tilt’
towards Pakistan. ‘[L]ooking at the balance there, the Indians are
going to win . . . Pakistan eventually will disintegrate,’ he
acknowledged. ‘[Yet], apart from the fact that Yahya has been more
decent to us than she [Indira Gandhi] has . . . I think our policy
wherever we can should definitely be tilted toward Pakistan . . . she
[Mrs Gandhi] knows that we did not shoot blanks when she was
here.’11
Washington now launched a new initiative to check India–
Bangladesh cross-border movements. India had earlier rejected a
call for the stationing of UN personnel on both sides of the border
with the ostensible purpose of facilitating refugee repatriation. The
White House suggested to Yahya Khan that he request a UN
presence on his side of the border, even if India refused to allow a
similar presence on its side. The UN presence would have the effect
of deterring Indian forces from crossing the border. Yahya at once
accepted the suggestion and made a formal request to the UN
secretary general on 28 November.12
On receiving confirmation of Yahya’s acceptance of his suggestion,
Nixon wrote to Mrs Gandhi expressing his distress at the ‘ominous
trend of events’ and India’s admission that its armed forces have
been engaged in Pakistani territory. He reminded her of his warning
that the American people would not understand it if Indian actions
led to large-scale hostilities. This would ‘inevitably affect our ability to
be helpful in many other ways’, he added, in a scarcely veiled threat
of terminating economic aid and military sales to India. Nixon urged
Mrs Gandhi to accept the proposal for a mutual pull-back of forces
from the West Pakistan border. Nixon also endorsed the latest
‘Pakistani’ move for stationing UN observers on their side of the East
Pakistan border.13 Simultaneously, the US president wrote to
Kosygin seeking his support for these proposals.14
Ambassador Keating handed over Nixon’s letter to Mrs Gandhi on
29 November. After reading it quickly but carefully, she replied that
India had great respect for the United States, but every country must
first look at its national interests. The current situation was not of
India’s making. Yahya Khan’s problems were self-created, and India
was not in a position to make the situation easier for him. Yahya’s
latest proposal to hold farcical elections in East Bengal would have
no impact whatsoever. ‘We are not going to listen to advice that
weakens us.’ Mrs Gandhi stated that she did not know how to tell the
Indian people that they must continue to wait. ‘I can’t hold it,’ she
said. Keating reported that Mrs Gandhi spoke with ‘clarity and more
grimness’ than on any previous occasion. The ambassador drew the
conclusion that ‘in the absence of some major development toward a
meaningful political accommodation, India will assure that the efforts
of the Mukti Bahini to liberate East Pakistan do not fail’.15
On 1 December, the United States imposed an immediate cut-off of
military sales to India.16 This was largely a symbolic act, since India
was not seriously dependent on US military supplies, but it was a
clear signal of the US position on the war that was about to break
out.

The Soviet Union


While providing strong support to India, the Soviet Union had also
been urging New Delhi not to get directly involved in a Pakistani civil
war. As we saw earlier, there was a partial but significant
modification of the Soviet assessment of the crisis during Indira
Gandhi’s Moscow visit. The Soviet leaders accepted that ‘in some
respects’ the Mukti Bahini’s struggle was a ‘war of national
liberation’. After Yahya’s rebuff to Podgorny at Persepolis, the Soviet
Union was compelled to abandon its hopes for a peaceful resolution
of the civil war. The escalation of the conflict in November brought
home to Moscow the inevitability of a war. Before the end of the
month, the Soviet Union came to accept that the conflict in East
Pakistan involved the principle of self-determination. Finally, at the
end of November, Moscow offered India unambiguous assurances of
support in the diplomatic battles that lay ahead in the United Nations.
With the approach of war, the Soviet Union closely coordinated its
positions with India. Ambassador Pegov met daily with Indian
policymakers to keep abreast with developments. On the morning of
27 November, he met twice with D.P. Dhar. In the first meeting, Dhar
informed the ambassador that the ‘inexorable movement of events in
East Bengal is proceeding towards a large-scale conflict. India is no
longer in a position to prevent this’. Dhar added that he was
confident that India could count on the ‘help, understanding and
friendship’ of the Soviet Union. Pegov said that he fully understood
India’s position and assured Dhar that the Soviet Union would be a
reliable friend and ally. He suggested, in his ‘personal capacity’, that
if an escalation was imminent, it would be advisable for the Indian
prime minister to inform the Soviet leaders in the greatest
confidence; this would avoid any misunderstanding. Dhar and Pegov
met for a second time the same morning. This time, Dhar asked for
the envoy’s views regarding the timing of India’s recognition of
Bangladesh. Not surprisingly, the Soviet ambassador expressed no
clear opinion on the subject.17
On 29 November, Pegov met Foreign Secretary Kaul for a wide-
ranging discussion, covering Nixon’s letters to Mrs Gandhi and
Kosygin, the likelihood of war, the timing of India’s recognition of
Bangladesh, and Soviet support for India at the UN. Pegov (who was
to meet Prime Minister Gandhi the next day) said that the Soviet and
Indian responses to Nixon should be on identical lines. When he
observed that war seemed imminent, Kaul responded that it
depended on Pakistan. India would have preferred a peaceful
solution. However, if Pakistan continued to deny independence to
Bangladesh, it could only result in intensification of the Mukti Bahini
resistance. Pakistan might treat this as an excuse for launching a
war against India, in the expectation that this would bring the UN
Security Council into the picture. Kaul stressed that India did not
want a war on the West Pakistan front. Pegov assured Kaul that the
Soviet Union would fully support India in the UN Security Council.18
On 30 November, Ambassador Pegov met the Indian prime
minister with a message from Moscow. Referring to Nixon’s letter to
Kosygin, he said, ‘I am authorised to convey that our position on
these matters is the same as yours, and in future also we shall
proceed on the basis of mutual agreement with you . . . Our
comrades have directed me to request you for your opinion before
they reply to President Nixon.’
Mrs Gandhi’s reply left no doubt about India’s position. ‘The
Pakistani army is still killing people in Bangladesh, not only the Mukti
Bahini but ordinary peasants also, in an attempt to annihilate as
many of them as they can. If at this stage, without any other
guarantee, we abandon these people to their fate, what will happen
to them?’ She said she was not going to reply to Nixon’s letter
immediately, but would do so later.19 (With an exquisite sense of
timing, Mrs Gandhi chose to reply to Nixon’s letter on 15 December,
on the eve of the Pakistani surrender in Dhaka!)
Kosygin’s message conveyed an unambiguous offer of support to
India in the diplomatic battles that lay ahead. On the same day that
this message was delivered in New Delhi, the Soviet ambassador at
the UN, Yakov Malik, called on the UN secretary general to inform
him of the Soviet position. U Thant records in his memoirs:
He [Malik] said that the basic problem in South Asia was the
implementation of self-determination in East Pakistan and the transfer of
power to the Awami League. He saw no other alternative. When I asked
him what he thought of Security Council action, he replied that if the
Security Council were to meet, the only ‘sensible thing’ for it to do would be
to deal with the basic political issue of East Pakistan.20

The Cabinet Secretary’s Report


It will be recalled that a Special Committee of Secretaries was set up
in April to monitor and coordinate implementation of all policies
related to the East Bengal crisis. The committee worked ceaselessly
throughout November to ensure that no loose ends were left
unattended. Finally, on 28 November, the chairman of the
committee, Cabinet Secretary Swaminathan, reported to the prime
minister: ‘Time is running out and the Committee of Secretaries feels
that the movement [sic, moment?] for decisive action has come . . .
PM [Prime Minister] is aware that over the last several weeks we
have made all the preparations necessary in case there are full-scale
hostilities, in several fields, e.g. defence, civil supplies, security
arrangements, etc. etc. and an international build-up explaining our
position and our objectives.’ The cabinet secretary attached to his
report notes prepared by the different departments. The defence
ministry confirmed: ‘As soon as a decision is taken, the Defence
Services are in a position to secure the defeat and surrender of the
occupying forces in East Bengal in the shortest possible time.’ The
home ministry reported: ‘All the States and particularly the border
States have confirmed that necessary measures for maintenance of
internal security have been taken . . . The need for utmost vigilance
to maintain communal peace has been impressed upon the State
Governments.’ While calling for ‘effective action’ to liberate
Bangladesh ‘at the earliest date possible’, the foreign ministry
suggested, ‘. . . we should provoke Pakistan into starting a war
against us by granting de jure recognition to Bangla Desh’. On
economic preparations, the cabinet secretary announced: ‘. . . our
foreign exchange reserves are in a fairly comfortable position and no
serious situation is likely to emerge in the short term.’21

The question of recognition


India did not intend to fire the first shot in an all-out war. New Delhi
planned to extend formal recognition to Bangladesh on 4 December,
expecting Pakistan to respond by starting the war. In the event,
Pakistan launched its offensive across India’s western border on 3
December itself, thus providing legal justification for a declaration of
war by India. New Delhi therefore decided to delay recognition of
Bangladesh till 6 December, in order to de-link the declaration of war
from the act of recognition of Bangladesh. Asoke Ray, head of the
Indian liaison office in Kolkata, reported the reaction of the
Bangladesh leaders when they were informed of the act of
recognition on the morning of 6 December. Acting President Syed
Nazrul Islam and Prime Minister Tajuddin Ahmed ‘were so deeply
moved when we informed them of “recognition” that they could
hardly speak. The Prime Minister was almost in tears and after a
long silence said that his conviction, which dates from his first
meeting with our Prime Minister, had proved to be absolutely
correct.’22
13. War and Diplomacy

On 29 November, Yahya Khan decided to launch an all-out attack on


India on the western front. He had scant hope of success, but he felt
that the reputation of the Pakistan army would suffer irreparable
damage if it were to lose East Pakistan without a full-scale war. He
later admitted that the army could not have lived down the ignominy
of surrendering East Pakistan without fighting an all-out war with
India. His chief of general staff, Lt Gen. Gul Hasan, is reported to
have said: ‘ . . . we had to take this action, otherwise we will not be
able to wear our uniforms.’1 The date of the attack was set for 2
December, but it was later postponed by a day. New Delhi was
hoping for just such a decision. It hoped that Pakistan itself would
initiate a full-fledged war, conceding to India the legal and political
advantage. When Pakistan finally launched its attack on Indian
forward airbases on the western front on the evening of 3 December
1971, the Indians were fully prepared. Early warning radars had
been suitably positioned, and aircraft had been dispersed and
camouflaged.2 The attack turned out to be a fiasco. The air strikes
were followed up with assaults on Indian ground positions in the
Chhamb and Ferozepur areas.
With these attacks across India’s western borders, Pakistan started
the war that India had been preparing to fight since April 1971. By
the end of November, India had completed its military and diplomatic
preparations for a short and decisive military campaign leading to the
liberation of Bangladesh. Its armed forces were in position. It had
ensured that the Soviet Union would veto a hostile US or Chinese
resolution in the Security Council, and signals had also been
received from two other permanent members of the Security Council
– France and the UK – indicating differences with their US ally.
The war launched by Pakistan gave India the justification it was
seeking for according formal recognition to the People’s Republic of
Bangladesh. On 6 December, Indira Gandhi announced in
parliament:
Now that Pakistan is waging war against India, the normal hesitation on our
part not to do anything which could come in the way of [a] peaceful
solution, or which might be construed as intervention, has lost its
significance. The people of Bangladesh battling for their very existence and
the people of India fighting to defeat aggression, now find themselves
partisans in the same cause.
I am glad to inform the House that in the light of the existing situation and
in response to the repeated requests of the Government of Bangla Desh
the Government of India have after the most careful consideration, decided
to grant recognition to the GANA PRAJATANTRI BANGLA DESH.3
The next day, India and Bangladesh entered into an agreement to
create a Joint Command for the liberation war under Lt Gen. Jagjit
Singh Aurora. The general was explicitly instructed to report to both
the Indian and Bangladesh governments.
The military operations leading up to the Pakistani surrender at
Dhaka have been studied in detail by several analysts, including
many of the leading protagonists. It is not our intention to enter this
well-trodden field. Our aim is to study the interplay between the
military and diplomatic moves that enabled military operations to be
pursued without interruption to a decisive conclusion; the attainment
of the overall political aim of assisting the speedy emergence of the
new state of Bangladesh and the return of the millions of
Bangladeshi refugees to their homeland.

The ‘tilt’
Nixon’s ‘tilt’ towards Pakistan posed the most formidable challenge
to the attainment of India’s aims. On 1 December, even before the
outbreak of war, Nixon suspended military sales to India. This, in
itself, was a matter of little practical consequence, since India’s arms
imports from the US were negligible. Indeed, the State Department
had earlier pointed out the futility of the move.4 When Keating
conveyed the presidential decision to Kaul, the Indian foreign
secretary received it with equanimity, stating firmly that pressure
tactics would not work with India.5 Nor was suspension of foreign
aid, announced shortly thereafter, of great importance – at least in
the short run. India, in 1971, was no longer as critically dependent on
foreign aid as it had been in the past two decades.
More serious were three other manifestations of the White House
‘tilt’. First, immediately upon the outbreak of war, the United States
raised the issue in the United Nations. It spared no effort to impose
an immediate ceasefire and troop withdrawals through a Security
Council resolution, before the liberation war could be brought to a
successful conclusion. An early ceasefire imposed by the Security
Council was precisely the contingency that India had feared and
anticipated in drawing up its strategic plans. India relied on a Soviet
veto to thwart such initiatives until military operations had reached a
successful conclusion. Second, Nixon and Kissinger attempted to
‘scare off’ or intimidate India by sending a nuclear carrier task force
into the Indian Ocean while also encouraging China to exert military
pressure on India’s borders. While New Delhi had anticipated the UN
move, a menacing US naval presence in the Indian Ocean had
previously been dismissed by Indian policymakers as inconceivable.
Finally, the White House tried to undercut Soviet support for India by
linking this issue with the prospects of detente. The Bangladesh
crisis erupted at a time when the United States and the Soviet Union
were engaged in exploring the possibility of detente. A major
breakthrough was expected during Nixon’s planned visit to Moscow
in May 1972. The White House strongly hinted that continued Soviet
support for India would prejudice the prospects of detente. A
fundamental feature of Nixon’s interpretation of detente was the
concept of ‘linkage’. This meant, in Nixon’s own words, that
‘. . . crisis or confrontation in one place and real cooperation in
another cannot long be sustained simultaneously’.6

The United Nations


On the outbreak of war, the United States took the lead in calling for
an urgent meeting of the UN Security Council, marshalling eight
other members as co-signatories. Pakistan itself had not requested a
meeting, fearing that a Security Council debate might raise awkward
questions about the origins of the crisis. Hence, China was not
among the co-signatories of the US proposal.
Meanwhile, a Bangladesh delegation led by a renowned high court
judge, Justice Abu Sayeed Chowdhury, had arrived in New York to
present its views to the United Nations. When the Security Council
met on 4 December, the first item on its agenda was a request from
Justice Chowdhury for a hearing in the Council. ‘[T]he United
Nations has not addressed itself so far to the basic problem, nor has
it so far taken into account the party most concerned in this tragic
and dangerous crisis, namely, the 75 million people of Bangladesh . .
. [T]here can be no proper evaluation of the present situation, its
causes, present state, and future solution, without Bangladesh being
given a hearing,’ wrote Justice Chowdhury in a letter to the president
of the Security Council.7
The Bangladesh request was strongly supported by the USSR and
Poland. It was opposed by Argentina (which alleged that acceptance
would amount to interference in the internal affairs of Pakistan) and –
more venomously – by China, which denounced Justice Chowdhury
as the ‘representative of rebellious elements within East Pakistan’.
The United States, supported by four other members, proposed
postponing consideration of Justice Chowdhury’s request. The
president of the Council for the month of December, Sierra Leone,
ruled in favour of postponement.
Pakistan and India then took the floor. Agha Shahi of Pakistan
charged India with aggression and with ‘openly demand[ing] that
Pakistan dismember itself’. Invoking the principles of territorial
integrity of States and non-interference in domestic affairs, he
argued
that ‘[the] nature of Pakistan’s internal crisis is outside the Security
Council’s concern . . . The Security Council is concerned with
international peace, not with the internal peace and political life of a
member State.’ He acknowledged that the presence of ‘displaced
persons’ on Indian soil had an international character, but it was a
humanitarian – not a political – problem.8 Countering these
arguments, India’s Samar Sen stated that ‘it is not India that is
breaking up Pakistan; it is Pakistan that is breaking up Pakistan itself
and, in the process, creating aggression against us’. By driving
millions of refugees across the border, Pakistan had inflicted strain
on India’s social structure, ruined its finances, and compelled it to
give up land for sheltering the refugees. This was aggression, just as
much as the ‘more classical type’, argued Sen. Pakistan had
followed up this ‘refugee aggression’ with ‘military aggression’ on 3
December.9
Shahi and Sen thus highlighted a basic question before the
Security Council. Should the Council confine itself to merely calling
for a ceasefire and withdrawal of Indian and Pakistani forces to their
respective territories, or was it imperative also to address the
underlying cause of the conflict, if peace was to be restored? The
five permanent members of the Security Council – the US, the
USSR, the UK, France and China – were divided on this question.
The United States pressed for an immediate ceasefire and
withdrawal of forces. It viewed the refugee problem as a purely
humanitarian issue and was prepared only to call upon both Pakistan
and India to create a ‘climate’ conducive to the voluntary return of
the refugees to East Pakistan. The Soviet Union adopted the
contrary position. It maintained that the basic cause of the conflict
was the absence of a political settlement in East Pakistan and that a
solution of this underlying problem would automatically lead to
peace. Challenging the argument that the domestic affairs of a
country lay outside the concerns of the Security Council, the Soviet
representative argued that ‘. . . under the Charter, the Security
Council unquestionably has the right to examine the causes of the
emergence of dangerous situations that threaten international peace
and security’. The refugee exodus had created serious tension in the
social, economic and political life of India’. Restoration of peace
required a ‘political settlement in East Pakistan that would take into
account the will and the inalienable rights and lawful interests of its
population’.10 France and the UK distanced themselves from the US
by recognizing the dual nature of the issue. The French
representative, Kosciusko-Morizet, made his point with Gallic clarity.
The conflict had two dimensions: it concerned ‘relations between the
Government of Islamabad and the population of East Pakistan’, as
well as relations between Pakistan and India as a consequence of
the refugee influx. ‘A civil war has thus been transformed into a war
between nations.’11 Ambassador Crowe of the UK called for a
‘comprehensive approach’, hinting at the need to also address the
underlying causes of the conflict.12 China, yet to recover from the
vitriolic diplomatic style of the Cultural Revolution, attacked the
‘scheme of India and her behind-the-scenes boss, Soviet social
imperialism, to invade and occupy Pakistan territory and to
dismember the State of Pakistan’.13 Such were the divergent
positions of the five permanent members invested with the right of
veto in the Council.
Ambassador George H.W. Bush of the United States was the first
to table a resolution on 4 December, calling on the Security Council
to oppose military intervention by a country in the affairs of another
country. The US resolution called for an immediate ceasefire,
withdrawal of armed personnel to their own side of the border, and –
if requested by either Pakistan or India – stationing of UN observers
along the borders to supervise the ceasefire and withdrawal. It also
invited India and Pakistan to accept the good offices of the UN
secretary general to secure and maintain peace on the continent.
Regarding the refugees, it merely called upon Pakistan and India to
‘exert their best efforts’ to create a ‘climate’ conducive to the
voluntary return of the refugees to East Pakistan.14 This implied that
India shared the responsibility for the resolution of the refugee
problem. The proposal was totally silent on the situation that had led
to the refugee exodus and which prevented their voluntary return to
their homeland. In short, the resolution was designed to stop the war
and secure withdrawal of Indian forces, without accommodating
Bangladeshi political aspirations.
When the US resolution was put to the vote, only the USSR and
Poland cast negative votes. Significantly, however, France and the
UK abstained on the vote, taking into account domestic opinion and
Indian diplomatic representations. The US resolution had majority
support but was blocked by the Soviet veto.
The USSR tabled a counter-resolution the same day.15 In sharp
contrast to the US resolution, it addressed the root causes of war,
calling for a ‘political settlement in East Pakistan, which would
inevitably result in a cessation of hostilities’. It also called on
Pakistan to ‘cease all acts of violence by Pakistani forces in East
Pakistan’. When the resolution was put to the vote the next day, it
was defeated, receiving only two votes in favour (the USSR and
Poland), one against (China), with all other members abstaining. In
view of the Chinese veto, it was unnecessary for the US to cast a
negative vote.
The People’s Republic of China tabled its own resolution, accusing
India of launching ‘large-scale attacks on Pakistan’, strongly
condemning India for ‘creating a so-called “Bangla Desh”’ and for
‘subverting, dismembering and committing aggression against
Pakistan’. It called on all other states to ‘support the Pakistan people
in their just struggle to resist Indian aggression’.16 This extreme
position found no support and China did not ask for a vote on its
resolution.
Another draft resolution was co-sponsored by all the non-
permanent members of the Security Council except two (Poland and
Syria). This simply called for an immediate ceasefire and troop
withdrawals, while vaguely recognizing the ‘need to deal
appropriately at a subsequent stage . . . with the issues which have
given rise to the hostilities’.17 The vote on this was identical to that
on the US resolution: 11-2-2. The USSR and Poland cast the
dissenting votes; France and the UK abstained; all others voted in
favour. The resolution did not carry because of the Soviet veto.
On 6 December, India extended formal recognition to the People’s
Republic of Bangladesh. At the Security Council, Ambassador
Samar
Sen of India read out the full text of the prime minister’s speech in
parliament, underlining its legal, political and constitutional
significance.18 Though the Soviet Union had yet to recognize
Bangladesh, it immediately took into account the Indian position. On
6 December, the USSR presented a new resolution. While the other
resolutions had been addressed to the governments of India and
Pakistan, the new Soviet draft called upon ‘all parties’ to observe an
immediate ceasefire, linking this with a simultaneous ‘political
settlement in East Pakistan, giving immediate recognition to the will
of the East Pakistan population as expressed in the elections of
December 1970’.19 The new resolution implicitly recognized that
there was a third party in the conflict, even as it continued to speak
of ‘East Pakistan’.
Blocked by the Soviet veto, the eleven members of the Security
Council that supported the US resolution moved to refer the matter
to the General Assembly under a procedure known as ‘Uniting for
Peace’. (While the General Assembly has no enforcement powers, it
may submit recommendations for such measures to the Security
Council, if invited to do so, under the provisions of the ‘Uniting for
Peace’ resolution adopted in 1950 during the Korean War.) Since
this was a procedural resolution, it could not be vetoed. The
resolution was carried by a majority of eleven votes in favour, none
against, with four abstentions (France, Poland, the USSR and the
UK).
The outcome of the General Assembly debate was a foregone
conclusion. As Haksar had presciently noted right at the beginning of
the crisis, the principles of territorial integrity and non-interference in
domestic matters were at the time deeply entrenched in international
law and practice. The newly independent countries of Asia and
Africa were particularly attached to these principles. Indeed, many of
them experienced tribal or ethnic conflicts in their own countries.
Many Latin American countries, living under the shadow of the
United States, placed a premium on such protection as was
available under international law relating to state sovereignty and
non-interference in internal matters.
Ambassador Sen battled on bravely in the General Assembly,
resolutely supported by his Soviet colleague, but met with little
success. Guided by the United States, no less than thirty-four
countries – drawn mostly from Latin America and Africa – jointly
sponsored a resolution calling upon India and Pakistan to observe
an immediate ceasefire and withdraw their forces to their own side of
the borders. As regards the underlying cause of the conflict, the
resolution merely urged an intensification of efforts to create
conditions for the speedy return of the East Pakistan refugees to
their homes, without linking this to the ceasefire. The draft resolution
also called upon the Security Council to take ‘appropriate action in
the light of the present resolution’.20 The resolution bore an
unmistakable similarity to the earlier US Security Council resolution.
The Soviet Union presented its own counter-draft, on lines that were
identical to the proposal it had presented in the Security Council the
previous day.21
Fifty-eight countries took part in the debate that lasted for more
than ten hours. Finally, late in the night on 7 December, the US-
inspired resolution was put to the vote. It was adopted by a massive
majority – 110 in favour, 11 against, with 10 abstentions. Bhutan
joined India and the Soviet bloc (excluding Rumania) in opposing the
resolution. Three West European countries (Denmark, France and
the UK), four Asian countries (Afghanistan, Nepal, Oman and
Singapore), and one each from Africa (Malawi) and Latin America
(Chile) abstained on the vote. With just five exceptions, India was
deserted by its non-aligned partners, including Yugoslavia and
Egypt. (Yugoslavia partly redeemed itself by calling for a political
settlement in East Pakistan ‘in cooperation with the elected
representatives there’.)22 The Soviet Union prudently refrained from
calling for a vote on its own draft resolution.
The resolution adopted by the General Assembly was a public
relations setback for India, but it did not affect the situation on the
ground. General Assembly resolutions are not backed by an
enforcement provision. The resolution was only in the nature of a
recommendation submitted to the Security Council, and it did nothing
to break the deadlock there.

A ceasefire appeal and its repudiation


While the United Nations was locked in these debates, the ground
realities were changing rapidly. The Indian army raced towards
Dhaka from three directions – west, north and north-east. It received
an enthusiastic welcome everywhere from the local population. The
freedom fighters spread out all over the countryside. On 6
December, CIA Director Richard Helms reported that on a
conservative estimate, it would take ten days for India to compel
Pakistani forces to surrender on the eastern front.23 On 8 December,
the day after the adoption of the General Assembly resolution, Yahya
Khan confided to the American ambassador that the situation in East
Pakistan was ‘beyond hope’.24 Thus, within the first week of the war,
the Pakistani collapse in the eastern theatre was clear to all informed
observers.
On 9 December, Nixon despondently said to Kissinger: ‘The
partition of Pakistan is a fact . . . You see those people welcoming
the Indian troops when they come in . . . Why then are we going
through all this agony?’ Kissinger, the agile geopolitical theorist,
shored up the president’s resolve by arguing that if a ‘combination of
the Soviet Union and the Soviet-armed client state [India]’ were
allowed to succeed, it would lead to a ‘complete collapse of the
world’s psychological balance of power’!25
That very day, 9 December, the governor of East Pakistan, Dr A.M.
Malik, sent a signal to Yahya pointing out the futility of further
resistance:
Once again urge you to consider immediate cease-fire and political
settlement(.) Otherwise once Indian troops are free from East Wing in a
few days even West Wing will be in jeopardy(.) Understand local
population has welcomed Indian army in captured areas and are providing
maximum help to them(.) Our troops are finding it impossible to withdraw
and manoeuvre due to rebel activity(.) With this clear alignment sacrifice of
West Pakistan is meaningless(.)26
Yahya authorized the governor to take whatever decision he
thought fit: ‘. . . take decisions on your proposals . . . I will approve of
any decision you take and I am instructing Gen. Niazi simultaneously
to accept your decision and arrange things accordingly.’27 Thus, on
10 December, the governor’s political adviser Maj. Gen. Rao Farman
Ali handed over a message from the governor to the senior UN
official in Dhaka, Paul Marc Henri. The message, prepared in
consultation with Lt Gen. Niazi, stated that the governor had been
authorized by President Yahya Khan to call upon the UN to arrange
for a peaceful transfer of power to the elected representatives of
East Pakistan.
As the conflict arose as a result of political causes, it must end with a
political solution. I therefore having been authorised by the President of
Pakistan do hereby call upon the elected representatives of East Pakistan
to arrange for the peaceful formation of the government in Dacca. In
making this offer I feel duty bound to say the will of the people of East
Pakistan would demand the immediate vacation of their land by the Indian
forces as well. I therefore call upon the United Nations to arrange for a
peaceful transfer of power and request:- ONE: An immediate ceasefire.
TWO: Repatriation with honour of the Armed Forces of Pakistan to West
Pakistan. THREE: Repatriation of all West Pakistan personnel desirous of
returning to West Pakistan. FOUR: The safety of all persons settled in East
Pakistan since 1947. FIVE: Guarantee of no reprisal against any person
settled in East Pakistan since 1947. The question of surrender of Armed
Forces will not be considered and does not arise and if this proposal is not
accepted the Armed Forces will continue to fight to the last man.28
The message caused a flurry of excitement in New York – until it
was repudiated by the Pakistani president. Yahya had been ready to
accept a ceasefire, but not an agreed transfer of power on terms that
seemed to imply acceptance of an independent Bangladesh.
Moreover, the governor was expected to make the appeal on his
own (delegated) authority, without saddling the president with the
responsibility! The governor’s message, Yahya complained to him, ‘.
. . has gone much beyond what you suggested and I had approved.
It gives the impression that you are talking on behalf of Pakistan
when you have mentioned the subject of transfer of power, political
solution and repatriation of troops from East to West Pakistan, etc.
This virtually means the acceptance of an independent East
Pakistan.’ Yahya authorized the governor to make an alternative
offer limited to a ceasefire in East Pakistan, guarantees of the safety
of Pakistani armed forces and prevention of reprisals. ‘The question
of transfer of power and political solution will be tackled at National
level.’ Hours later, Yahya changed his mind and countermanded
these instructions. He instructed the governor to take no action
regarding even a ceasefire. ‘Important diplomatic and military moves
are taking place by our friends. It is essential that we hold out for
another 36 hours at all costs,’29 he advised the governor. Yahya was
pinning his hopes on a rescue operation by the White House.
During this episode, India refrained from commenting on the
governor’s proposals, pending clarification of their status. The
proposals handed over by Gen. Rao Farman Ali would have met
India’s primary objective by arranging for an early de facto transfer of
power to the Bangladesh government and freeing the country of the
presence of the Pakistani armed forces. Had they been
authenticated by Yahya, the terms may well have been accepted by
India. With the repudiation of the governor’s initiative, Pakistan lost
the opportunity for a negotiated ceasefire and paved the way for an
unconditional surrender in the eastern front.

‘Scaring off the Indians’


On 8 December, as Nixon and Kissinger pondered over ways to
rescue Pakistan, Kissinger suggested that they should ‘try to scare
off the Indians’. Two days earlier, Nixon had mooted the idea of
encouraging the Chinese to move troops to the Indian border.
Kissinger reverted to this idea, linking it with the dispatch of a carrier
force into the Bay of Bengal. He believed that deployment of the task
force would provide the necessary encouragement to China to move
against India. Moreover, it would send a signal to the Soviet Union.
‘We have only one hope now . . .
to convince the Indians the thing is going to escalate. And to
convince the Russians that they are going to pay an enormous
price.’30 Nixon readily agreed.
A basic flaw in the plan soon came to light. John Connally, the
influential secretary of the Treasury, pointed out that American public
opinion would be strongly opposed to the deployment, interpreting it
as a threat of military intervention in support of Pakistan. Shaken by
Connally’s warning, Kissinger came up with the idea of moving only
a helicopter ship, instead of a carrier task force. ‘From a Chinese
angle,’ he explained to the president, ‘I would like to move the
carrier. From the public opinion angle, what the press and television
would do to us if an American carrier showed up there . . .’ he said,
leaving the sentence unfinished. A helicopter ship, he argued, would
avoid these problems and would still be a token that something more
would follow. Nixon remained unconvinced. ‘Why are we doing it
anyway? Aren’t we going in for the purpose of [demonstrating]
strength?’ he asked. Sensing the president’s mood, Kissinger deftly
reverted to his earlier stand. ‘I’d move the carrier so that we can tell
the Chinese tomorrow to move their forces to the frontier.’31
Thus, on 10 December, a Presidential Order was issued creating
Task Force 74, comprising the nuclear aircraft carrier Enterprise, with
accompanying escorts and supply ships. Task Force 74 was ordered
to sail from the Gulf of Tonkin to Singapore, in the first instance. The
C-in-C of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, Jr, voiced his
concern over the fact that no specific mission had been assigned the
task force. The admiral had already earned Kissinger’s ire by
pointing out that the ‘tilt’ in favour of Pakistan would serve only to
strengthen the Soviet position in India.32
On the same day that Nixon created the naval task force, Kissinger
secretly met with Ambassador Huang Hua, the Chinese permanent
representative at the United Nations, in a CIA safe house in New
York. He gave the Chinese envoy an account of the steps taken by
the White House to support Pakistan, highlighting that many of the
initiatives were taken without the knowledge of the State
Department. Kissinger offered to share with China satellite
intelligence concerning Soviet troop deployments near the Chinese
border. After revealing the decision to move a carrier task force to
the Indian Ocean, he came to the main point. In carefully chosen
words, Kissinger informed the Chinese ambassador that ‘. . . the
President wants you to know that . . . if the People’s Republic were
to consider the situation on the Indian subcontinent a threat to its
security, and if it took measures to protect its security, the US would
oppose efforts of others to interfere with the People’s Republic’. Here
was the implicit offer of support, which Kissinger believed would turn
the scales in favour of a Chinese decision to intervene. He
concluded by observing that ‘. . . if East Pakistan is to be preserved
from destruction, two things are needed – maximum intimidation of
the Indians and, to some extent, the Soviets. Secondly, maximum
pressure for the ceasefire.’33
Two days later, Huang Hua requested an urgent meeting. This sent
Kissinger into a tizzy of excitement. ‘They’re going to move. No
question, they are going to move,’ he told the president. His dreams
were shattered when the message was delivered. Huang Hua had
been instructed to convey China’s support for the latest US-
sponsored Security Council resolution calling for an immediate
ceasefire and withdrawal of forces. This put at rest hopes in the
White House of inducing China to make a military move against
India.
Kissinger’s strategy reflected a flawed understanding of Chinese
policy. It was unrealistic to expect that the promise of an American
security umbrella would induce China to embark on a risky military
adventure. In January 1972, Kissinger’s deputy, Alexander Haig,
discussed the December war with Chinese Premier Zhou En-lai
when he visited Beijing to prepare for the Nixon visit. Haig unwittingly
offended his hosts when he said that the United States had a
fundamental interest in the maintenance of ‘China’s viability’ and that
Nixon and Kissinger were concerned on this account during the
recent South Asia crisis. When Zhou En-lai reported the
conversation to Mao, the chairman commented: ‘Why should our
viability become America’s concern . . . If China’s independence and
viability should be protected by the Americans, it is very dangerous
[for us].’ Zhou later told Haig that he was ‘greatly surprised’ by the
US leaders’ concern for ‘protecting China’s independence and
viability’. China firmly believed that ‘no country should depend upon
a foreign power in maintaining its own independence and viability’.
Otherwise, the dependent country would become a ‘subordinate or
colony’.34
By 12 December, when Huang Hua’s message was received, the
primary argument for deploying the nuclear carrier Enterprise in the
Indian Ocean had been proved false. Kissinger’s promise that the
United States ‘. . . would oppose the efforts of others to interfere with
the People’s Republic’ failed to induce Chinese military intervention.
The Enterprise-led naval task force was scheduled to pass through
the Straits of Malacca that day, but Nixon and Kissinger decided to
hold up the movement for twenty-four hours. In his memoirs,
Kissinger says that the delay was intended to give Moscow more
time to respond to a hotline message concerning coordinated action
in the Security Council. This may have been a factor, but the records
show that the White House was once again assailed by fears
concerning US public reaction. On 13 December, Kissinger cabled
Haig from the Azores: ‘As for the fleet, I am weighing [the] advantage
of moving it against [the] risk of [it] being called off prematurely by
public pressure . . . in any event, [the] fleet should go into [the] Indian
Ocean, not [the] Bay of Bengal.’35 Thus, the Enterprise headed
towards Colombo, not Chittagong.
The appearance of Task Force 74 in the Indian Ocean failed to
‘scare off’ the Indians. New Delhi was well aware of the constraints
imposed on the White House by Congressional and public opinion in
the United States. Addressing a massive rally in New Delhi, Indira
Gandhi delivered a message intended for both an Indian and
American audience. Playing on the rift in Washington between the
White House and its opponents in the Congress and media, she
declared:
A foreign power has threatened us. It has told us that it is bound by certain
treaty alliances with Pakistan. We were aware of these alliances. There
were many Pacts and as far as I am aware, they were intended to contain
Communism. The object of these alliances was certainly not to fight
democracy, or to suppress justice or the voice of the oppressed.
For the Indian public, she struck a note of defiance:
However weak we may be [compared with that foreign power] . . . the
Indian spirit is indomitable – indomitable because we follow the path of
truth and justice. We shall show the world that despite the opposition of all
those forces, there is no power on earth that can bend us.36
While the deployment of the Enterprise failed to deter India, it
produced a last flicker of hope in Pakistan. On 13 December,
Ambassador Raza conveyed an urgent appeal from his president.
Yahya requested that the US Seventh Fleet be tasked to keep the
Bay of Bengal and Arabian Sea open to Pakistani shipping and to
prevent India from attacking Pakistani ports. This was followed up
the next day by a personal message from Yahya to Nixon:
The time has come for the United States to go beyond warnings and
demarches if its determination to punish aggression across international
borders is to have any effect on the Soviet Union and India. The Seventh
Fleet does not only have to come to our shores but also to relieve certain
pressures which we by ourselves are not in a position to cope with.37
The desperate appeal fell on deaf ears.
With the approach of the Enterprise, the Soviet navy too signalled
its presence in the Indian Ocean. The USSR had quietly reinforced
its modest presence in the Indian Ocean right at the beginning of the
war. On 3 December, the Soviet presence consisted of a destroyer, a
conventional F-Class submarine, a minesweeper and a tank landing
ship. These ships were nearing completion of their six-month
deployment period. A relief force consisting of a destroyer and a
minesweeper arrived in the Indian Ocean through the Straits of
Malacca on 5 December. Moscow decided to retain the original
contingent; thus, the newly arrived ships became a reinforcement,
instead of a replacement. A second Soviet task force was sighted by
the Japanese as it passed through the Straits of Tsushima on 9
December. It must therefore have left Vladivostok on 6 December or
7 December, soon after the outbreak of the war – and before the US
decision to send the Enterprise. These deployments reflect Soviet
contingency planning in the context of the Indo-Soviet Treaty before
the movement of the US task force. Yet another Soviet task force
was dispatched after the US deployment of Task Force 74. It was
first sighted by the Japanese when it passed through the Straits of
Tsushima on 15 December. Though it arrived in the Indian Ocean
only on 18 December, the Americans were aware that it was on the
way. When the USS Enterprise arrived in the Indian Ocean, Soviet
submarines in the area announced their presence by surfacing, as
Soviet and American ships warily watched each other.38
The superpower naval minuet in the Indian Ocean was
accompanied by an exchange of messages between Washington
and Moscow and between Moscow and New Delhi, as the White
House sought to impress upon the Kremlin the ‘linkage’ between
detente and Soviet policy in the Indo-Pakistan war.

‘Linkage’: Detente and a regional war


In parallel with its moves in the United Nations, the White House
invoked the doctrine of ‘linkage’ to bring pressure to bear on
Moscow. Early in the crisis, on 6 December, Nixon complained to
Brezhnev that the Soviet position in the South Asian crisis was
inconsistent with progress towards detente:
It had been my understanding . . . that we were entering a new period in
our relations which would be marked by mutual restraint and in which
neither you nor we would act in crises to seek unilateral advantages
. . . [However,] what is happening now in South Asia, where you are
supporting the Indian Government’s open use of force against the
independence and integrity of Pakistan . . . runs counter to the recent
encouraging trends in international relations.
Nixon called upon Brezhnev to use his ‘great Influence’ in New
Delhi to bring about a ceasefire and restore the territorial integrity of
Pakistan. If India was allowed to achieve its objectives by military
action, it would ‘long complicate the international situation and
undermine the confidence that we and you have worked hard to
establish’. Nixon concluded pointedly that the spirit in which the two
leaders had agreed to meet in Moscow in May required ‘most urgent
action to end the conflict and restore territorial integrity in the
Subcontinent’.39
Brezhnev replied that he agreed with Nixon’s understanding that
neither party should seek unilateral advantages in a crisis. He also
agreed on the need for an immediate ceasefire. However, the
ceasefire would have to be ‘connected with a simultaneous decision
for a political settlement based on the recognition of the will of the
East Pakistani population. Otherwise, it is impossible to ensure the
respect for the lawful rights and interests of the people of East
Pakistan and to create conditions for the return of the millions of
refugees.’ Without these conditions, a cease-fire would not be stable.
Brezhnev proposed that negotiations between the Pakistan
government and the leaders of East Pakistan should be resumed
from the stage at which they had been broken off in March.40
Not satisfied with the response, the White House decided to turn
on the pressure on Moscow. The Soviet minister of agriculture,
Vladimir Matskevich, happened to be visiting Washington. He was
summoned to the White House on 9 December to receive a tough
message from Nixon himself. Matskevich was totally at sea about a
question unconnected with his official responsibilities. The bemused
agriculture minister was informed that if the Soviets continued with
their policy in East Pakistan, it would ‘poison the whole new
relationship between the United States and the Soviet Union’.
Moscow, he was warned, should consider whether its gains in India
were ‘worth jeopardising the relationship with the United States’.
Nixon drew the Soviet minister’s attention to US treaty obligations to
Pakistan.41 He followed up the next day with a message to
Brezhnev, urging him ‘in the strongest terms to restrain India with
which, by virtue of your treaty, you have great influence and for
whose actions you must share responsibility’. He specifically sought
an assurance that India would accept a ceasefire in the west
immediately after a ceasefire had been agreed in the eastern
theatre.42
Though the Soviet leaders rejected the contention that progress
towards detente required them to align their South Asia policy with
that of the United States, they could not afford to simply brush aside
American concerns. Kissinger had repeatedly expressed concern
over India’s designs regarding West Pakistan. Moscow knew these
were unfounded and was prepared to serve as a channel for
communicating an official Indian denial to Washington. Partly for this
reason and, more generally, because of the need for timely
coordination with India in a rapidly evolving situation, the Soviet
leaders sent Vasily Kuznetsov, the senior-most deputy foreign
minister, to New Delhi for consultations under the Indo-Soviet Treaty.
India reciprocally sent D.P. Dhar to Moscow.
Kuznetsov arrived in New Delhi on 12 December and immediately
called on Mrs Gandhi, who readily confirmed that India had no
territorial designs on West Pakistan – an assurance that New Delhi
had already communicated directly to Washington on more than one
occasion. Indian leaders confirmed that India was fighting a
defensive war on the western front and had no intention of going on
a strategic offensive in the west. India was ready to accept a general
ceasefire if Pakistan agreed to withdraw its forces from Bangladesh
and transfer power to the Awami League.
India, in turn, raised its concerns about the arrival of the Enterprise
in the Indian Ocean. Kuznetsov was told that far from fraying Indian
nerves, the threatening posture adopted by the United States had
the effect of strengthening its determination. Notwithstanding this,
India requested the Soviet Union to make a public announcement at
the highest level that interference by other countries in the affairs of
the subcontinent would only aggravate the existing situation. A TASS
statement to this effect had, indeed, been issued early in the war, but
in India’s view this did not suffice. India requested an official
statement at the highest level, pointing out the consequences of
third-party intervention.43
In light of these consultations, Brezhnev sent a reply to Nixon’s
message of 10 December. Brezhnev rejected Nixon’s allegation that
there was a lack of clarity concerning India’s intentions. India had no
plans for seizing West Pakistan territory. India was ready to accept a
general ceasefire if Pakistan withdrew its forces from the eastern
theatre and transferred power to the lawful representatives of the
people, thereby creating conditions for the refugees in India to return
to their homes. Regarding the Enterprise, Brezhnev said that it was
‘difficult for us to understand how it is possible to combine striving for
a peaceful settlement of the problem by collective efforts of our
countries with such unilateral actions like demonstrative movements
of naval forces and so on. Suppose the other side will also embark
on the path of taking similar measures – what then will be the net
result?’44
Kissinger claims in his memoirs that India’s intention was to
‘smash’ West Pakistan after achieving its aims in the eastern theatre.
He claims that his aim was only to prevent the destruction of West
Pakistan. The facts contradict these claims. The Soviet resolution of
6 December would have brought about a ceasefire on both fronts
had it not been rejected by the United States and its allies. When
Nixon raised the question with Brezhnev, the latter formally
confirmed that the Indian government would readily accept a general
ceasefire after Bangladesh had been liberated. Kissinger dwells on
the fact that Indian officials declined to clarify their objectives in
Kashmir. He fails to mention that when the question was put to the
Indian ambassador in Washington, L.K. Jha, the latter asked
whether a similar assurance had been obtained from Pakistan – a
question to which the State Department had no answer.45 Despite
this reservation, India did, in fact, give the US a broad hint of its
intentions. On 12 December, Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul informed
the US ambassador to the UN, George H.W. Bush, that India had no
major ambitions regarding Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir, adding that
India and Pakistan had discussed minor rectifications even in
peacetime.46 The significance of this comment was not lost on the
Americans. Kissinger incorporated it in his Situation Report to Nixon
the same day.47 He, however, fails to mention these facts in his
voluminous memoirs.
Kissinger’s real intentions were reflected in the draft UN Security
Council resolution tabled by the United States on 12 December.48
This called on India and Pakistan to observe an immediate ceasefire
and withdraw their forces to their own sides of the India–Pakistan
borders. In other words, India was required to withdraw troops from
liberated Bangladesh territory, while Pakistani armed forces
remained in that territory. The question of a ‘political solution’ was left
for the future. The clear intention was to prolong Pakistani rule in
Bangladesh.

End game
The US resolution ignored ground realities. Pakistani forces were
collapsing everywhere in the eastern front. On 11 December, Indian
paratroopers had been airdropped in the Tangail area, inside the
Dhaka bowl, where they linked up with Bangladeshi freedom fighters
under Kader ‘Tiger’ Siddiqui. The strategically important town of
Jamalpur was liberated the same day. Indian and Bangladeshi forces
were positioning themselves for the final march to Dhaka.
Speaking on the US resolution, Swaran Singh urged the Security
Council to accept the reality of Bangladesh. He argued that
‘International law requires that where a mother State has irrevocably
lost the allegiance of such a large section of its people . . . and
cannot bring them under its sway, conditions for the separate
existence of such a State come into being’. The Council should
recognize the right of the people of Bangladesh to be heard in the
debate and to be a party to any ceasefire arrangement. Moreover, a
political solution had to be found in accordance with the wishes of
the people of Bangladesh, as already declared by their elected
representatives. If these three ‘essential ingredients’ were accepted,
an immediate ceasefire could be adopted, together with withdrawals
of Indian and Pakistani forces from Bangladesh, as well as mutual
Indian and Pakistani withdrawals from each other’s territory ‘through
appropriate consultations’.49
Swaran Singh’s suggestions were brushed aside, even though they
addressed the stated US concern about an immediate ceasefire on
both fronts. The vote on the resolution was identical to that on the
earlier US resolution of 4 December – eleven in favour, two opposing
(Poland and the USSR) and two abstaining (France and the UK).
The resolution was blocked by the Soviet veto – the third in nine
days.
US allies Italy and Japan immediately followed up with a proposal
similar to the vetoed US resolution. Their proposal called for a
ceasefire and appointment of a Security Council committee to assist
India and Pakistan in achieving reconciliation on the basis of the
General Assembly resolution of 7 December. Like the US draft, the
proposal tabled by Italy and Japan aimed to restore Pakistani control
over Bangladesh, leaving for the future the ‘issues which have given
rise to these hostilities’50 – namely, the slaughter of hundreds of
thousands of unarmed civilians and the flight of some 10 million
refugees.
In New Delhi, Kuznetsov and Haksar worked out a counter-move,
using the Farman Ali proposals as a starting point.51 They agreed
that a third party might be encouraged to present a resolution in the
Security Council based on the following elements: peaceful transfer
of power in Bangladesh/East Pakistan to the elected representatives
of the people headed by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman; a temporary
ceasefire for seventy-two hours; withdrawal of Pakistani armed
forces to designated places in Bangladesh/East Pakistan for the
purpose of their evacuation
from the eastern theatre; evacuation under UN supervision of West
Pakistan civil personnel and other persons wishing to return to
West Pakistan, and similar evacuation of Bangladesh personnel from
West Pakistan; ceasefire to become permanent on commencement
of preceding steps; and, recognizing the principle that territorial gains
acquired through application of force may not be retained, India and
Pakistan to commence negotiations to apply this principle to the
western sector.
In presenting this proposal to the Political Affairs Committee of the
cabinet, Haksar explained the political and tactical advantages of the
move: ‘. . . [w]e shall gain time. We would not appear negative and
intransigent and . . . we would be able to say that we are ready to
respond to anything which is reasonable.’ India would be free to
seek elucidation and propose amendments.52 A draft resolution on
these lines was tabled by Poland on 14 December.53
By the time Poland presented its resolution in the Security Council,
the Pakistani position in the eastern theatre was on the verge of total
collapse. On the evening of 13 December, Lt Gen. Niazi reported to
Rawalpindi:
All fortresses under heavy pressure. No replenishment even of
ammunition. Rebels have already surrounded the city. Indians also
advancing. Situation serious. Promised [Chinese] assistance must take
practical shape by December 14. Will be effective in Siliguri not NEFA and
by engaging enemy air bases.54
On 14 December, the civil administration in ‘East Pakistan’ ceased
to exist. Acting on the basis of an intercepted signal, the Indian Air
Force launched a rocket attack on the Governor’s House in Dhaka
while a cabinet meeting was in progress. The panic-stricken
governor wrote out his resignation and fled for shelter to the
Intercontinental Hotel, which was under a UN umbrella. West
Pakistani civil servants in Dhaka had already sought shelter there
earlier in the day.55 The same afternoon, Lt Gen. Niazi received a
reply from Yahya:
You have now reached a stage where further resistance is no longer
humanly possible…You should now take all necessary measures to stop
the fighting and preserve the lives of all armed forces personnel, all those
from West Pakistan and all loyal elements . . .56
Niazi met Spivack, the US consul-general, and asked him to
transmit a message to Manekshaw requesting a ceasefire. He also
requested the UN representative in Dhaka to arrange a ceasefire on
terms similar to those in the earlier appeal of 11 December (which
was subsequently withdrawn). It took Washington twenty hours to
relay Niazi’s appeal to Manekshaw. The Indian army chief received
the message at 1430 hours Indian Standard Time (IST) on 15
December. Manekshaw sent his reply to Niazi within two hours,
calling on the latter to ‘issue orders to all forces under your
command in Bangladesh to cease fire immediately and surrender to
my advancing forces wherever they are located’.57
Meanwhile, the Security Council remained occupied in a surreal
debate. On 15 December – the eve of the Pakistani surrender in
Dhaka – three new draft resolutions were tabled: an Anglo-French, a
Syrian and a new Soviet proposal. Also, Poland tabled an
amendment to the resolution it had presented the previous day. No
less than five draft resolutions contended for attention. None of the
sponsors sought a vote. The intention was only to signal the
preferred outcome. The Anglo-French proposal called for an
immediate ceasefire and for the ‘urgent conclusion of a
comprehensive political settlement in accordance with the wishes of
the people concerned as declared through their elected and
acknowledged representatives and in conformity with the purposes
and principles the United Nations Charter’.58 India pointed out to the
sponsors that the proposed political negotiations remained only a
‘pie in the sky’!59 The Syrian resolution sought an immediate
ceasefire, withdrawal of troops to their own side of the border and
the ceasefire line in Kashmir, and appointment of a UN special
representative to assist a comprehensive settlement between
Pakistan and the ‘elected representatives of East Pakistan’.60 The
Soviet proposal introduced an element of reality, calling for an
immediate ceasefire on both fronts, and the ‘simultaneous
conclusion of a political settlement in accordance with the wishes of
the people of East Pakistan as declared through their already
elected representatives’.61 In the midst of the Security Council
debate on 15 December, Bhutto staged a theatrical walkout,
positioning himself advantageously in the domestic power struggle
that lay ahead!
The next day, Maj. Gen. Jacob flew to Dhaka in the morning to
present the terms of surrender to Niazi. Advance elements of the
Indian army and the Mukti Bahini were already present in the city.
After an initial show of reluctance, Niazi accepted the terms of the
instrument of surrender. At 4.31 p.m. IST on 16 December, in the
presence of a vast crowd of jubilant Bangladeshis, Lt Gen. Niazi
formally surrendered to Lt Gen. Aurora, General Officer
Commanding-in-Chief of the Indian and Bangladesh forces in the
Eastern Theatre. Announcing the surrender in parliament, Prime
Minister Indira Gandhi declared, to thunderous applause, that ‘Dhaka
is now the free capital of a free country’.62 It was the proudest
moment in the annals of the Indian armed forces.
India’s aims having been achieved, Prime Minister Gandhi ordered
a unilateral ceasefire in the western front, effective from 17
December. Pakistan followed suit, ending the fourteen-day war.
14. Victory

The iconic photograph of the Pakistani surrender at Dhaka fails to do


full justice to the historic grandeur of the event. The photograph
shows Lt Gen. Niazi signing the instrument of surrender in the
presence of Lt Gen. Aurora, witnessed by senior officers of the
Indian armed forces.
A picture from a different angle brings in Group Capt. Khondaker,
who was standing next to Vice Admiral Krishnan. (Khondaker
represented the Bangladesh armed forces in the absence of Col.
Osmani, who was unable to be present for logistical reasons.) A
wide-angle lens would have covered at least a part of the huge
crowd of jubilant Bangladeshis who had gathered at the scene to
celebrate the liberation of their country from Pakistani rule. The
iconic photograph depicts an Indian military victory over Pakistan;
the other pictures capture also the success of a multidimensional
grand strategy for the liberation of a new nation-state through the
joint action of the Indian army and the Mukti Bahini.
On 21 December – five days after the Pakistani surrender – the UN
Security Council finally accepted the new ground reality. It adopted
Resolution 307 (1971), which noted that a ceasefire and cessation of
hostilities prevailed in the subcontinent and demanded that this be
strictly observed until troops were withdrawn to ‘their respective
territories and to positions which fully respect the ceasefire line in
Jammu and Kashmir supervised by the United Nations Military
Observer Group in India and Pakistan’.1
India’s response was a qualified acceptance. Addressing the
Security Council, Foreign Minister Swaran Singh stated that India
would give ‘due consideration’ to the resolution. He observed that
Pakistan had violated the ceasefire line in Jammu & Kashmir in 1965
and again in 1971, and pointed to the ‘need to avoid the repetition of
such incidents by making some adjustments in the ceasefire line in
order to make it more stable, rational and viable’.2
Adjustment of the 1949 ceasefire line was an add-on to the war
aims decided earlier in the year. It evolved during the course of the
December war. As we noted earlier, an indication of the aim was
given to the United States during Swaran Singh’s meeting with Bush
on 12 December. It was not India’s intention to impose the
adjustment on Pakistan but rather to arrive at a negotiated change.
This limited escalation in the political objective was, in a sense, a
replay of 1965. At the outset of the 1965 war, India’s aim was simply
to repulse the Pakistani assault on Kashmir, but during the course of
the war, New Delhi came to appreciate the importance of holding on
to some of the strategically significant Pakistani posts it had
occupied across the ceasefire line in the Haji Pir, Tithwal and Kargil
areas, and India declared its intention to retain these areas. At
Tashkent, however, Kosygin was able to gently persuade Lal
Bahadur Shastri to give up the demand for a readjustment of the
ceasefire line, just as he had persuaded Ayub Khan to drop the
Pakistani demand for reopening of the Kashmir issue.3 This broke
the deadlock in the talks and cleared the path for the Tashkent
Declaration.
There was a certain similarity in India’s post-war aims in 1965 and
1971, in the sense that both involved minor territorial adjustments.
However, there was also a basic difference. In 1965, India only
sought an adjustment of the 1949 ceasefire line originating from a
UN Security Council resolution. In 1971, India aimed at replacement
of the UN-ordained ceasefire line by a bilaterally negotiated Line of
Control. This involved not merely minor territorial adjustments, but a
more basic shift to managing or resolving differences through
bilateral negotiations, rather than negotiations at a multilateral forum.
The Security Council resolution of 21 December implicitly
recognized the irreversibility of the outcome of the liberation war. It
was only a matter of time before the international community
extended formal diplomatic recognition to Bangladesh. Bhutan had
joined India in recognizing the infant state on 6 December. In early
January 1972, the German Democratic Republic extended formal
recognition, followed by other members of the Soviet bloc. In
February 1972, the major West European countries, including the
UK, France, and the Federal Republic of Germany, followed suit.
The United States formally recognized Bangladesh on 8 April. Thus,
by early April 1972, most of the major powers, including all the
permanent members of the UN Security Council, with the solitary
exception of China, had accorded diplomatic recognition to the newly
independent People’s Republic of Bangladesh.
Plans for restoration of the civil administration in post-war
Bangladesh had already been drawn up by the Mujibnagar
authorities in November. These plans were speedily implemented
after liberation. The very next day after the Pakistani surrender,
appointments of senior district officials (deputy commissioners and
superintendents of police) were announced over the radio. On 18
December, an advance team of senior Mujibnagar officials, led by
Chief Secretary Ruhul Quddus, arrived in Dhaka to take over the
reins of administration. Acting President Syed Nazrul Islam, Prime
Minister Tajuddin Ahmed and other cabinet ministers followed on 22
December. Thus, within a week after liberation, all the organs of the
new state had begun to function across the length and breadth of
Bangladesh.
Pakistan came under increasing international pressure to release
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. In early January 1972, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto,
who had replaced the disgraced Yahya Khan as president and chief
martial law administrator, decided to release the Bangabandhu from
prison. Mujib was flown out to London, from where he returned to
Dhaka, after a brief halt in New Delhi on 10 January. ‘I decided to
stop over in the historic capital of your great country on my way to
Bangladesh, for this is the least I could do to pay a personal tribute
to the best friend of my people, the people of India and to your
Government under the leadership of your magnificent Prime Minister,
Mrs. Indira Gandhi,’ Mujib declared on his arrival at Delhi’s Palam
airport.4
Mujib returned to Dhaka on 10 January 1972 to a deliriously joyful
welcome. His triumphal return invested the government of the new
state with an authority it had not possessed earlier. The task of
disarming ex-freedom fighters and channelling their energies into
nation-building tasks could now be taken up more effectively.
Reconstruction of the war-devastated economy posed an immense
challenge. Bridges and railway lines had to be repaired on a massive
scale; power generation and distribution had to be restored; the
major port of Chittagong had to be cleared of mines; scarcities of
essential goods had to be addressed. On 17 January, India agreed
to supply Bangladesh a list of essential commodities, including
consumer items such as sugar, salt and baby food; medicines and
drugs; oilseeds and cotton yarn for rural industries; cement, steel
and steel products; power generation and transmission equipment;
and transport vehicles.5 Chittagong port was cleared with Indian
assistance. India helped to rehabilitate the railway network in
Bangladesh. In the immediate post-liberation period, the burden of
foreign aid was mainly shouldered by India. This changed only after
the major traditional donor countries extended diplomatic recognition
to Bangladesh.
With their country freed from Pakistani occupation, the millions of
refugees returned speedily to their homes. Nearly 7 million refugees
were repatriated within six weeks of the liberation of Bangladesh.6
By 25 March 1972, all but a handful of the nearly 10 million refugees
had returned to their homeland. The massive task of providing
transportation to the refugees and resettling them in their homes
could not have been accomplished in so short a time but for detailed
advance planning by the Indian and Mujibnagar authorities.
Less than a month after his return to Bangladesh, Mujib visited
Kolkata to express his gratitude to the ‘Government and people of
India, especially to the neighbouring States of West Bengal, Tripura,
Meghalaya and Assam, for the assistance and hospitality given to
millions of Bangladesh citizens and for the moral and material
support given by the Government and people of India to the struggle
for liberation’.7 The visit afforded an opportunity for extensive
discussions between Mujib and Indira Gandhi on the potential for
cooperation in diverse fields – industry, agriculture, communications,
development and utilization of water and power resources, as well as
cooperation in the fields of culture, science and technology. An
important decision was that the withdrawal of Indian armed forces
from Bangladesh would be completed by 25 March 1972.8
Indian planners had not failed to address a question that is all too
frequently overlooked when troops are sent abroad – bringing the
troops home within a specific time frame. D.P. Dhar had driven home
this point in his discussions with the Mujibnagar authorities in
November. When Mujib passed through New Delhi in January, Mrs
Gandhi took the opportunity to emphasize that she wanted the Indian
troops in Bangladesh to return home as soon as Mujib felt they could
do so. The two prime ministers discussed this question in greater
detail during Mujib’s Kolkata visit, and, as we noted, it was mutually
agreed that the withdrawal would be completed by 25 March 1972.
Later, when it was agreed to schedule Mrs Gandhi’s return visit to
Dhaka for 17 March, she requested that the withdrawal be
completed before her arrival. Accordingly, it was agreed to bring
forward the date of withdrawal to 15 March. On 12 March,
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman took the salute at the Indian
army’s spectacular farewell parade at a packed Dhaka stadium.
Indira Gandhi received a rapturous welcome when she visited
Dhaka in March 1972. Posters bearing her portrait were plastered on
city walls throughout the capital. A massive crowd assembled to hear
her public address. When she went on a cruise down the Buriganga
with Mujib and other Bangladesh leaders, tens of thousands of
people cheered her from the riverbank throughout the journey. Few
statesmen have been privileged to receive such an emotional
welcome on foreign soil. It was during this river cruise that Mujib and
Mrs Gandhi decided to enter into a Treaty of Peace and Friendship,
signalling the close ties between the two neighbouring countries.
Thus, by the end of March 1972, the aims of India’s grand strategy
had been fully achieved. The Bangladesh liberation war had been
brought to a speedy and successful conclusion, averting the
prospect of an extended guerrilla war, in which power might have
passed into the hands of pro-Naxalite and pro-Chinese extremists. A
new state, the People’s Republic of Bangladesh, had gained wide
diplomatic recognition. Millions of refugees, whose continued
presence in India would have imposed unbearable stresses on the
economy and social stability of West Bengal and the north-eastern
states, had been enabled to return to their homeland. A looming
threat to the security of India had been decisively repulsed, despite
the combined opposition of a superpower and a major regional
power. Last but not least, having achieved these objectives, India
had brought back its troops from Bangladesh.
It remained only to achieve the add-on objective adopted in
December 1971 – to persuade Pakistan to accept a negotiated
modification in the delineation and status of the 1949 ceasefire line.
This objective was achieved in the Indo-Pakistan summit held in
Simla at the end of
June 1972.

Road to Simla
Indira Gandhi’s twin objectives at Simla were to replace the 1949
UN-mandated ceasefire line in Kashmir with a new bilaterally agreed
Line of Control based on the ground situation at the time of the 17
December ceasefire; and to secure agreement on the principle of
resolving all differences with Pakistan peacefully through bilateral
negotiations. These arrangements would result in a basic shift of
focus from a multilateral to a bilateral approach in settling issues of
discord with Pakistan. An agreement abjuring the threat or use of
force to change the new Line of Control would also endow it with the
characteristics of a de facto – but not de jure – boundary.
Contrary to widespread belief, India did not seek a final settlement
of the Kashmir issue in Simla. In Indira Gandhi’s view, the time was
not ripe for a final solution on these lines. Quite apart from the
question of its acceptability to Pakistan, relinquishing or
‘surrendering’ India’s claims to Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir would
trigger strong public protests in India fanned by opposition parties.
P.N. Dhar, secretary to the prime minister, recalls that ‘Mrs. Gandhi
was worried that a formal withdrawal of the Indian claim on Pak-
occupied Kashmir could create trouble for her’.9 Indira Gandhi hoped
that the bilaterally agreed Line of Control would eventually evolve
into a mutually accepted international boundary, but the final
settlement was to be left for a future date, when public opinion in
both India and Pakistan was better prepared to accept a realistic
solution. The immediate objective was to persuade Pakistan to
accept a new, bilaterally agreed Line of Control in replacement of the
UN-determined 1949 ceasefire line and, more generally, to resolve
all differences with Pakistan peacefully through bilateral negotiations,
without involving outside powers.
D.P. Dhar met with Aziz Ahmed, secretary general in Pakistan’s
foreign ministry, in Murree in the last week of April 1972, to prepare
the ground for a summit between Mrs Gandhi and Bhutto. Aziz
Ahmed was a highly respected civil servant and diplomat who had
served under Bhutto as foreign secretary in 1965 and was known as
a hardliner on questions relating to India. Aziz Ahmed flatly rejected
Dhar’s proposal for replacing the ceasefire line with a new Line of
Control. An impasse appeared to have been reached on the very
first day. Dhar threatened to return home the next day. The situation
was saved in a one-to-one meeting between Dhar and Bhutto, in
which the Pakistani president indicated that he was prepared in
principle to accept a new Line of Control in Jammu & Kashmir,
provided other issues were resolved. Looking into the future, he said
that with normalization of relations, increasing exchanges across the
border and the ceasefire line or Line of Control, the latter would
become irrelevant with the passage of time.10
This was not the first time that Bhutto had touched on this long-
term prospect. In an interview to Kuldip Nayar in March, he had
declared:
We can make the Ceasefire Line as the basis of initial peace. Let the
people of Kashmir move between the two countries freely. One thing can
lead to another. Why should it be ordained on me and Mrs. Gandhi to
resolve everything today? We should set things in motion in the right
direction. Others can pick up from it. We cannot clear the decks in one
sweep.11
On the basis of the confidential understanding with Bhutto
concerning the Line of Control, Dhar reached an agreement with
Aziz Ahmed on the summit agenda. This took the form of a
compilation of the items suggested by each party. Dhar’s contribution
accorded pride of place to the elements of ‘durable peace’, including
‘inviolability of the frontier/boundary between India and Pakistan’.
Dhar left his Pakistani interlocutors in no doubt that the elements of
‘durable peace’ included a new Line of Control in Kashmir. Aziz
Ahmed, on his part, placed repatriation of POWs and withdrawal of
forces at the top of his list of priorities.
Just when the road to the Simla summit seemed to have been
cleared, Bhutto made a serious faux pas. Playing on his vanity, the
Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci drew him into making some
unflattering comments on Mrs Gandhi. Bhutto described her as a
‘diligent drudge . . . devoid of initiative and imagination’ and as a
‘mediocre woman with a mediocre mind’12. This provoked an angry
reaction in India, jeopardizing the prospects of the summit. Bhutto
wriggled out of this awkward situation by issuing a categorical denial
of the reported remarks.
At this point, we may pause briefly to take note of Mrs Gandhi’s
own perception of Bhutto. One of the hardy perennials in popular
accounts of the Simla summit is that a gullible Indira Gandhi was
fooled by a wily Bhutto. The actual record shows that she deeply
distrusted Bhutto, not only because of his history of adopting
virulently anti-India postures but also because she had information
about the steps he had begun to take in 1972 to build up Pakistan’s
military strength. Mrs Gandhi felt it was important for India to retain a
certain margin of military superiority in order to deter a new Pakistani
military adventure. The Soviet Union was duly approached for the
required arms, but Moscow, which had responded to earlier requests
with exemplary promptitude, chose to maintain silence on this
occasion. Swaran Singh pressed the case with Soviet leaders in
April 1972 during his Moscow visit, but failed to elicit a positive
response. Mrs Gandhi herself wrote to Brezhnev on 26 April to
explain her misgivings about Bhutto and the justification for the
requested weapons. About Bhutto, she wrote:
. . . he is a leader whose career so far . . . casts doubt on his goodwill
towards India and his devotion to peace. It may be that recent events have
infused in him a genuine desire to turn his back on the past and make a
new start; but at the moment, we cannot regard this as more than a
possibility . . . He should also be made to feel that such recourse to arms in
future is bound to fail. It is in order to restrain him and his foreign friends
from yielding to the temptation of choosing an adventurist course in
preference to a peaceful settlement that we should exert ourselves to build
up our military strength.13
These are hardly the words of a naive and gullible woman! Despite
her pleas, Moscow remained unconvinced; it withheld a positive
response to India’s new requests for arms till after the Simla summit.

Simla Summit
So many myths have sprung up around the Simla conference (28
June to 2 July 1972) that, even at the risk of the tedium it may bring,
a brief day-by-day account of the proceedings is necessary. The
negotiating history that follows is based on the Indian records of the
daily meetings, supplemented by accounts left by three of the
participants – the Pakistani delegates Rafi Raza and Abdul Sattar,
and P.N. Dhar.14 As secretary in Mrs Gandhi’s PMO and as a
member of her delegation in Simla, P.N. Dhar provides some
invaluable insights about the conference. The Pakistani archives
remain closed.

Day 1
After a brief, formal opening session, the two leaders, assisted by
their principal advisers, met behind closed doors to review the
Murree discussions and spell out their main concerns. Bhutto
emphasized the need for a step-by-step approach and pressed the
case for respecting the 1949 ceasefire line. Mrs Gandhi readily
agreed that the numerous outstanding issues between the two
countries could not be resolved immediately in a single package.
She was unyielding, however, in her insistence on reaching an
agreement on the new Line of Control.15 Thus, the one point on
which the two leaders were agreed was that ‘all outstanding issues’
– meaning, principally, the Kashmir question – could not be settled at
Simla.
The officials met later in the day. Aziz Ahmed led off with a skilful
presentation of the Pakistani case for immediate repatriation of all
POWs and withdrawal of troops from occupied territories.
Complaining about India’s insistence that Mujib must be a party to
any decision regarding repatriation of POWs who had surrendered in
the eastern front, he posed a direct question to D.P. Dhar. If
agreement could be reached on the ‘elements of durable peace’,
would India be in a position to make a declaration about repatriation
of POWs without reference to Mujib? Dhar replied that the POWs
who had surrendered on the western front could be released. Aziz
Ahmed had already dismissed this as insignificant, since it involved
only some 600 men, against the 93,000 Pakistanis who had
surrendered on the eastern front. He emphasized that Bhutto could
not possibly return with only a peace settlement, without POW
repatriation and troop withdrawals. There would be little merit in
continuing a discussion that showed no visible progress on Pakistani
concerns.16 In short, at the outset of the conference, Aziz Ahmed
explored the possibility of driving a wedge between India and
Bangladesh by hinting at accommodating Indian concerns in return
for India’s agreeing to repatriate all POWs without reference to
Bangladesh. Dhar made it clear that this was a non-starter.

Day 2
On 29 June, the two delegations exchanged initial drafts on the
outcome document of the summit. The Pakistani draft took the form
of a short ‘Joint Statement on Basic Principles of Relations between
India and Pakistan’.17 This called for settlement of disputes between
the two countries through ‘bilateral negotiations or mediation and,
should these methods fail, by arbitration or judicial settlement’. An
arbitral or judicial tribunal would be set up if requested by either
party, and its award would be binding on both countries. The draft
joint statement was a mere recapitulation of the traditional Pakistani
position on a ‘self-executing mechanism’ for resolving the Kashmir
issue.
D.P. Dhar spelled out his objections to departing from a bilateral
approach to resolving outstanding issues. If bilateral talks did not
yield results, he pointed out, the two sides could always decide, by
mutual agreement, to approach a judicial tribunal.18 His presented a
counter-proposal in the form of a ‘Treaty for Reconciliation, Good
Neighbourliness and Durable Peace’.19 This ruled out the threat or
use of force and committed the two countries to settle all issues
‘bilaterally and exclusively by peaceful means’. It also called for
cessation of hostile propaganda; promotion of economic and cultural
ties; and facilitation of travel between the two countries.
The Indian and Pakistani drafts both dealt with the modalities of a
final settlement of the Kashmir issue. The final settlement itself was
reserved for future discussions. This was specifically reflected in a
note appended to the Indian draft, which stated that the ‘question of
Jammu and Kashmir will be discussed separately . . . [and] the
Agreement reached at such discussion shall be incorporated’ in the
treaty. Aziz Ahmed, predictably, rejected the Indian draft. The Indian
draft failed to provide for a ‘self-executing machinery’ for dispute
settlement, which, he said, was an essential prerequisite for any
agreement on non-use
of force.20

Day 3
Pakistan presented its second draft, bearing the title ‘Agreement on
Bilateral Relations’.21 This incorporated some steps for progressive
normalization of relations (such as cessation of hostile propaganda,
opening of border posts, and even resumption of trade ‘as far as
possible’), but made no concession on the basic principle of
resolving outstanding issues on an exclusively bilateral basis.
Moreover, it called for implementation of the UN Security Council
resolution of 21 December 1971 (concerning troop withdrawals to
the 1949 ceasefire line and repatriation of POWs) and expressly
stipulated that Pakistan would ratify the agreement only after this
clause had been implemented. The draft thus reflected the Pakistani
position that reaffirmation of
the 1949 ceasefire line, troop withdrawals to that line, as well as
repatriation of all POWs in accordance with the UN Security Council
resolution of 21 December 1971 were prerequisites for any
agreement on durable peace.
D.P. Dhar was in hospital, following a minor heart attack the
previous day. P.N. Haksar, who took over as leader of the Indian
delegation, drew attention to India’s expressed reservations
concerning the UN Security Council resolution of December 1971.
Haksar said that in order to remove the ‘endless curse of conflicts on
the question of Kashmir’, it was important to know the ‘parameters
within which Pakistan envisaged a solution to the question . . . even
if we do not come to any agreement’. Aziz Ahmed refused to be
drawn into discussion on this point and would only say that Kashmir
could be discussed between the two leaders,
Mrs Gandhi and Bhutto.22

Day 4
On the penultimate day of the conference, India presented its
second draft, offering some modest concessions.23 In the title,
‘Treaty’ was replaced by ‘Agreement’. While continuing to exclude
any mention of UN resolutions, a new clause referred generally to
the ‘principles and purposes’ of the UN Charter. Finally, while
reiterating that all differences must be resolved peacefully through
bilateral negotiations, the draft added ‘or any other peaceful means
mutually agreed between them’. This took into account the Pakistani
insistence on including the options of arbitration or judicial
settlement, but qualified it by requiring consent of both parties, thus
bringing the option into the ambit of a bilateral accord. (It will be
recalled that Dhar had already made this offer on 29 July.)
Pakistan tabled some radical amendments in what amounted to a
counter-draft.24 This required both parties to withdraw troops to their
respective territories and to positions which fully respect the
ceasefire line in Jammu & Kashmir, and to repatriate all POWs and
civilian internees. Another clause introduced a loophole in the Indian
proposal for bilateral resolution of all outstanding issues. The
Pakistani amendment proposed that the ‘basic issues and cause of
conflict which have bedeviled the relations between the two
countries for the last 25 years [code words for Kashmir] shall be
resolved bilaterally and by peaceful means’. The wording was open
to the interpretation that, in addition to bilateral negotiations,
recourse might also be had to other peaceful means, such as UN
resolutions or international arbitration or adjudication.
Indira Gandhi and Bhutto met in the afternoon, together with
leading members of their delegations, to explore possibilities of
breaking the deadlock. Nothing substantial emerged from the
meeting. Mrs Gandhi’s contribution to the discussions consisted of a
few short but pointed comments. The ‘ceasefire line has no validity; it
did not keep the peace’; the latest Pakistani draft ‘weakens the
bilateral approach’; and she also reiterated the Indian position on
repatriation of POWs. In response, Bhutto pleaded that, for historical
reasons, anything resembling a ‘No War’ Pact conjured up in
Pakistan a sense of capitulation. If the agreement failed to provide
for troop withdrawals and repatriation of POWs, the pact would be
seen as the product of negotiations under duress. The Pakistani
President said it would be a ‘great tragedy’ if agreement on
repatriation of POWs were to ‘flounder on Sheikh Mujib’s caprice’. As
regards Kashmir, Bhutto said that ‘in the foreseeable future an
agreement will emerge. It will evolve into a settlement. Let there be a
line of peace, let people come and go. Let us not fight over it.’ ‘My
back is to the wall,’ he pleaded. ‘I cannot make any more
concessions.’ At this point, T.N. Kaul intervened to highlight India’s
principal requirement. ‘If in Jammu & Kashmir the Line of Actual
Control could be made into a line of peace, other steps could follow,’
he stated.25
Thus, the Simla conference remained deadlocked till the very last
day. Almost the only positive result of the discussions at the level of
officials was convergence on the title of a possible accord – that it
should be called an ‘agreement’, rather than a ‘treaty’ (as India had
proposed) or a mere ‘joint communique’ (as suggested by Pakistan)!
India had presented two drafts in an attempt to reach an agreement
on the ‘elements of durable peace’ – focusing on peaceful settlement
of all outstanding issues on a bilateral basis – as a step towards an
agreement to replace the UN-mandated 1949 ceasefire line by a
new bilaterally agreed Line of Control in Jammu & Kashmir. This had
run into a wall of uncompromising opposition. The only substantive
point of agreement between the two parties was that a final
settlement of the Kashmir issue could not be found at Simla and had
to be left to a later date. Discussions revolved around the modalities
for arriving at a final settlement. On the penultimate day, Bhutto
repeated his hint that the 1949 ceasefire line should become a ‘line
of peace’ which would evolve into a boundary in course of time. Kaul
suggested that the new Line of Control should be treated as a line of
peace.

Final day
On the last day of the conference, the Indian delegation decided to
force the issue. It handed over a new draft (see Annexure 3) which,
for the first time, comprehensively covered India’s goals. Previous
Indian drafts had dwelt on the requirements of durable peace,
reserving for future talks not only a final settlement of the Kashmir
issue but also questions of immediate concern for Pakistan – troop
withdrawals and repatriation of POWs. India’s core objective –
replacement of the ceasefire line in Kashmir with a new Line of
Control – had not figured in specific terms in previous drafts. The
new draft filled this gap. Paragraph 4 of the final Indian draft said: ‘In
Jammu & Kashmir, the line of control resulting from the cease-fire of
December 17, 1971, shall henceforth be respected by both sides as
a line of peace. Neither side shall seek to alter it unilaterally,
irrespective of mutual differences and legal interpretations. Both
sides further undertake to refrain from the threat or the use of force
in violation of this line.’ The paragraph also provided for minor
adjustments to this line ‘or the rest of the ‘international border’ by
mutual agreement, and for a joint body of supervision for the
effective observance of peace along the Line of Control ‘or the rest
of the international border’. These tangential references to the Line
of Control as part of the ’international border’ gave the line the
character of a de facto boundary. Paragraph 6 called for future
meetings to discuss the question of a ‘final settlement of Jammu &
Kashmir’, thus making it clear that the Line of Control was not a de
jure boundary.
As we noted earlier, Mrs Gandhi was not ready to immediately
convert the Line of Control in Jammu & Kashmir into a full-fledged
international boundary, lest she should be accused of ‘surrendering’
territory across the line. She envisaged this as the long-term
solution, and wished to move in this direction. Indian negotiators
groped for a formulation to capture this complex position. Thus, in
Murree and in the early stages of the Simla conference, D.P. Dhar
had spoken of a ‘frontier’ in Jammu & Kashmir. In a similar vein, the
Indian draft of 2 July included a couple of tangential references to
the Line of Control as a ‘border’ (as distinguished from a de jure
‘boundary’). The clauses providing for minor adjustments to the Line
of Control and for the creation of a supervisory body in the final
Indian draft also applied to the ‘rest of the border’ between the two
countries. The draft thus drew a fine distinction between a de jure
international ‘boundary’ in Jammu & Kashmir (which was left for
future settlement) and the wider concept of a ‘border’ that included
both the de jure and de facto boundaries.
The officials, led by Haksar and Aziz Ahmed, met in the afternoon
to consider the draft. It was a brief meeting. Aziz Ahmed straight
away announced that the draft was unacceptable. Pakistan could not
accept that the ceasefire line had ceased to exist; moreover,
repatriation of POWs would remain a pending question. Haksar said
that he was troubled not by Pakistan’s rejection of the draft but by its
reason for the rejection. ‘We are not asking Pakistan to give up her
position on Jammu & Kashmir,’ he emphasized. The Indian side had
anticipated the rejection and had come prepared with an
appropriately worded draft communique covering up the failure of the
summit. Playing for time, the Pakistani delegation said it would
submit its own draft later in the evening. ‘We did not prolong the
argument because we knew that Aziz Ahmed could not dare say
“yes” and only his boss Bhutto could,’ T.N. Kaul explains.26
On the afternoon of 2 July, the conference seemed to have ended
in failure. Yet an agreement emerged by the late hours of the night.
Amidst high drama, Bhutto called on Mrs Gandhi; meetings were
held between the principal negotiators and, finally, around midnight,
agreement was reached on an amended version of the final Indian
draft.
The meeting between Mrs Gandhi and Bhutto has found a place in
Indian political mythology. According to this myth, Bhutto succeeded
in this meeting in persuading Mrs Gandhi to drop the demand for a
final settlement of the Kashmir question. This ignores the fact that
each of the three Indian drafts presented in Simla, including the final
draft presented on the last day of the conference, specifically
stipulated that a final settlement would be left for a future date.
Bhutto’s own impressions of his encounter with Mrs Gandhi have
been recorded by Rafi Raza, his special assistant and confidant.
Raza, who spoke to Bhutto immediately after the meeting, writes: ‘. .
. despite all his [Bhutto’s] assurances of improving relations and
settling disputes between the two countries, she [Indira Gandhi]
remained adamant on the text of the agreement prepared by her
officials. Clearly she did not trust him; at least this was what he
[Bhutto] told me.’27
What did Bhutto actually say to Mrs Gandhi? Swaran Singh briefed
the Soviet ambassador on his return from Simla. The Indian record
of the meeting says:
F.M. [Foreign Minister] said that the Indo-Pakistan summit had gone off
very well and we were happy over the outcome. If Bhutto carries out his
obligation to settle the differences between India and Pakistan peacefully
and bilaterally, a good basis for durable peace would be laid. He had
conceded that the line of actual control in Jammu & Kashmir would not be
altered by Pakistan. In fact, he had virtually accepted that this would be the
line of a final settlement. He went on to say that public opinion in Pakistan
was, at this moment, not fully prepared for a settlement of Kashmir on the
basis of the line of actual control . . . [H]e would continue to make
statements that he stands for the self-determination of the people of
Kashmir but he would not raise this matter in the United Nations, would not
internationalise it, would not use force to upset the line of control and
would not give any encouragement to secessionist elements in Kashmir.
He would continue to say that he stands for the principle of self-
determination but would take no action to back the statement in any
manner.28
A comparison of the Simla Agreement (Annexure 4) with the text of
the final Indian draft (Annexure 3) reveals the give and take in the
negotiations on the last night. The only significant amendments are
to be found in subparas (ii), (iii) and (iv) of Article 4.
Subpara (ii) of the Indian draft set out India’s core position. It read:
In Jammu & Kashmir, the line of control resulting from the cease-fire of
December 17, 1971, shall henceforth be respected by both sides, as a line
of peace. Neither side shall seek to alter it unilaterally, irrespective of
mutual differences and legal interpretations. Both sides further undertake
to refrain from the threat or the use of force in violation of this line.
The phrase ‘without prejudice to the recognised position of either
side’ was inserted at the end of the first sentence, on Pakistan’s
request. The author of the amendment was the lawyer, Rafi Raza,
who advised Bhutto that Pakistan could accept the Indian draft with
the insertion of this phrase. This presented no problem to the Indian
side, since it also applied to India’s claim to the entire territory of
Jammu & Kashmir. The phrase ‘line of peace’ – originally a Pakistani
formulation – was also dropped from the sentence.
Subparas (iii) and (iv) relating to minor adjustments to the Line of
Control by mutual agreement, and to a joint supervisory body, were
also deleted. The deletion of the provision concerning minor
territorial modifications by mutual agreement was not, in itself, of
much consequence. In a sense, it was superfluous. Despite deletion
of the clause, India and Pakistan did, in fact, negotiate minor
adjustments to the Line of Control in the wake of the Simla
Agreement. By contrast, deletion of the provision for a supervisory
body had material consequences. As Abdul Sattar points out, by
persuading the Indian side to drop this clause, Pakistan ‘checkmated
India’s move’ to withdraw the UN Military Observers Group in India
and Pakistan (UNMOGIP).29 Agreement to set up a bilateral
supervisory body would have implied acknowledgement of the fact
that the UNMOGIP had become redundant. After the Simla
Agreement, India declared that the UNMOGIP no longer had a role
to play, since the 1949 ceasefire line had ceased to exist, having
been replaced by the new Line of Control. Pakistan, however,
welcomed a UNMOGIP role in Jammu & Kashmir.
It is noteworthy that neither the legal expert Raza nor the
accomplished diplomat Sattar chose to dwell on the secondary
feature of the dropped clauses. The provisions for minor adjustments
and joint supervision applied to the Line of Control and the ‘rest of
the international border’. The fact that major Pakistani accounts do
not focus on this feature suggests that the references to the Line of
Control as a ‘border’ was not a bone of contention in the final
negotiations. The Pakistani delegation knew that India was not
seeking a final resolution of the Kashmir question at Simla. Indeed,
this was specifically spelled out in Article 6 of India’s final draft. The
intention behind the formulation was to signal to the Pakistani side
that the Line of Control should be treated as a de facto boundary. On
the other hand, had the original wording been retained in the final
agreement, it would have been next to impossible to explain to the
Indian public the arcane and tenuous legal distinction between a
‘border’ and a ‘boundary’, or to defend the government against the
charge of ‘surrendering’ the territory across the Line of Control.
In the final analysis, therefore, India succeeded in achieving its
principal objective of replacing the UN-determined ceasefire line in
Jammu & Kashmir with a bilaterally agreed Line of Control and in
securing a Pakistani commitment to settle all differences by ‘peaceful
means through bilateral negotiations or by any other peaceful means
mutually agreed upon’. However, by agreeing to drop the provision
concerning a joint body to supervise the Line of Control, India
allowed Pakistan to create a loophole in the bilateral approach,
enabling Islamabad to retain a UNMOGIP presence on its side of the
line.
15. Conclusion

In 1971, two celebrated geopolitical theorists operated from the


White House, but the more successful practitioners of geopolitics
were to be found in New Delhi’s Central Secretariat. Nixon and
Kissinger produced elaborate, if unconvincing, geopolitical
justifications for their South Asia policy. Mrs Gandhi and her principal
aide, Haksar, could not match the theoretical sophistication of their
American counterparts. Yet, they had a clear vision of the challenges
that confronted India and the available options; and it was they who,
in the final reckoning, achieved success.
The Awami League’s victory in the Pakistani general elections in
December 1970 gave rise to hope as well as apprehension in New
Delhi. Indian policymakers hoped that the Awami League, which had
won an absolute majority of parliamentary seats in the Pakistan
parliament, would be allowed to form the federal government. They
believed this offered the only hope of a breakthrough in India–
Pakistan relations. A transfer of power from the army and its allies in
the West Pakistani political establishment to a democratic, East
Bengal–based political party would open the doors to mutually
beneficial trade and cultural exchanges, together with constructive
engagement on the difficult Kashmir issue. On the other hand, they
were apprehensive that a prolonged civil war would break out if the
Pakistan army decided to thwart the transition to democracy by
crushing the East Bengal ‘rebels’. New Delhi feared that a long-
drawn-out guerrilla war would pass under the control of extremist
elements linked to China and India’s own Naxalites. West Bengal
had been devastated by Naxalite violence in the 1960s, and the
insurrectionary movement had only recently been brought under
control. Anarchy in East Bengal could not for long be confined within
its borders; it posed a potential threat to peace and security in
eastern India.
Yahya’s decision to crush Bengali aspirations by unleashing a reign
of terror in East Bengal delivered the final death blow to Pakistan’s
unity. As had long been anticipated in New Delhi, the crackdown
precipitated an armed uprising and popular resistance on a massive
scale. It also triggered a massive refugee exodus, which New Delhi
feared would expand to a magnitude exceeding India’s coping
capacity and pose a threat to its security. Apprehensive about the
consequences of an extended guerrilla war and an unending refugee
exodus on an unprecedented scale, India decided to assist the
freedom fighters to bring their struggle to a successful conclusion
before the end of the year. An immediate march on Dhaka was ruled
out, not only because the army had no contingency plans for such an
operation, but more importantly because a government installed by
the Indian army would not be accepted by the international
community. Bangladesh could be liberated only by her own sons and
daughters. India could only play a supporting role.
Indian policymakers drew up a multidimensional grand strategy to
achieve this aim. On the military side, this included a massive
programme to train and equip Bangladesh freedom fighters, and
parallel preparations for direct intervention before the year end in
order to bring the liberation war to an early conclusion. These
military preparations were interlinked with diplomatic initiatives aimed
at mobilizing international support for the liberation struggle, and
ensuring that military operations would not be thwarted either by
Chinese intervention or a premature UN-imposed ceasefire. India’s
grand strategy was sufficiently flexible to cope with unforeseeable
diplomatic or military developments. When the risks associated with
the strategy registered a sharp and unexpected increase as a result
of a dramatic reordering of Sino-US relations, India was able to rise
to the challenge by harnessing the countervailing power of the Soviet
Union.
Together with defence and foreign policy, home affairs and
economic management were integral elements of India’s grand
strategy. While India generously provided shelter to the millions of
refugees fleeing from the Pakistan army, it was determined to enable
all the refugees to return to their homes. To facilitate this, the
refugees were accommodated in camps situated along the border,
even though their dispersal to different parts of India would have
reduced the stress on the host communities. (In some cases – most
notably, in Tripura – the refugees actually outnumbered the host
community.) The host communities everywhere extended a warm
welcome to arriving refugees. Local authorities helped to defuse the
occasional tensions over access to jobs and scarce commodities.
After the first few weeks of the Pakistani crackdown in East Bengal,
a large majority of the arriving refugees consisted of Hindus fleeing
from the Pakistan army’s pogrom against the minority community.
State governments were given strict instructions to ensure
communal harmony, and these instructions were scrupulously
implemented. One of India’s great successes in 1971 was the
uninterrupted maintenance of communal harmony in the country,
despite severe Pakistani provocation. On the economic side, apart
from finding resources for defence preparations and refugee relief,
Indian policymakers anticipated a possible oil embargo, shortages of
certain critical non-ferrous metals required by defence production
units, and the need for ensuring adequate foreign exchange
reserves during and immediately after the impending war. As we saw
earlier, New Delhi factored in a possible oil embargo imposed by Iran
and other allies of Pakistan. Immediately after signing the Indo-
Soviet Treaty, India requested the USSR to divert Soviet oil
purchases from Iraq to Indian ports, in the event of an oil embargo
against India. Soviet assistance was also sought in respect of non-
ferrous metals. We also noted that, on the eve of the war, specific
confirmation was received from the finance ministry that foreign
exchange reserves were adequate. India was prepared for the
suspension of US aid.
Thus, India marshalled all available instruments of state power in a
coordinated grand strategy to achieve its political aim of speeding up
the liberation of Bangladesh. The achievement was all the more
remarkable in the absence of supporting institutional structures. India
had no equivalent of the US National Security Council, nor even an
integrated structure for the three defence services. These severe
institutional limitations were compensated to some extent by ad hoc
patchwork arrangements. We have noted the measures adopted by
the defence services to facilitate joint operations, drawing upon the
lessons of the 1965 war. The Special Committee of Secretaries,
chaired by the cabinet secretary, made a crucial contribution by
coordinating the actions of all the relevant government departments.
The credit for formulating the grand strategy and overseeing its
implementation goes to a small circle of officials who enjoyed the
trust and confidence of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. The leading
figure in this group was P.N. Haksar;1 other members included D.P.
Dhar, Foreign Secretary T.N. Kaul and the RAW chief, R.N. Kao.
Haksar derived his authority from the prime minister, and his leading
role was never questioned even though, until his elevation to the
rank of principal secretary in December 1971, he was outranked in
the official hierarchy by both Dhar and Kaul. The core group met
frequently, often in the presence of the army chief, General
Manekshaw, who, in turn, kept the other service chiefs in the picture
regarding government policy. Fortuitously, the members of this
quintet were on easy and informal terms with one another and were
able to work together in harmony.
Mrs Gandhi generally went by Haksar’s advice, but there were
important exceptions. In the case of the Indo-Soviet Treaty, the prime
minister’s closest advisers – Haksar, Dhar and Kaul – were all in
favour of concluding the treaty even before Kissinger dropped his
July bombshell after his pathbreaking visit to China. Indira Gandhi
withheld her approval of the treaty and finally cleared the proposal
only after the United States signalled the implications of its new ties
with China.
Though these ad hoc arrangements stood the test in 1971, their
limitations were obvious. Lt Gen. Jacob points out that the ‘absence
of a National Security Council to formulate and coordinate political,
economic and foreign policy and military strategy was felt greatly’.2
In the absence of continuous, institutionalized interaction with their
civilian counterparts, it is not surprising that even very senior military
officers were left unclear about the interplay between diplomatic and
military developments. Jacob was the most articulate in questioning
the clarity of India’s political aims, and his doubts were shared by
others. Even the air force chief, Air Chief Marshal P.C. Lal, later
confessed as much.
. . . a doubt which had existed in my mind, and also in the minds of others,
as to what the objectives of the 1971 war were . . . It was clear from the
beginning that that our government did not intend, at any time, to destroy
the power of Pakistan in the West . . . We did intend, however, that the
people of East Pakistan should determine their own future to the extent
possible. The possibility that the Pakistani forces in East Pakistan would
collapse altogether, as they did, that Dhaka would fall and that the whole
country would be available to the freedom movement in East Pakistan, was
not considered something that was likely to happen.3
Jacob questions whether there was a clear political aim. ‘The
concept of total victory was only evolved by Army Headquarters just
prior to hostilities,’ he wrote to Manekshaw after the war. ‘What was
the political aim? If the political aim was the independence of
Bangladesh, that meant the occupation of the whole country
including Dacca.’4
‘Total victory’, for Jacob, meant total military occupation. He
remained unconvinced by Manekshaw’s explanation that liberation of
the greater part of Bangladesh, occupation of the entry ports and
isolation of the Pakistani forces in Dhaka and a few other garrisons
that were cut off from supplies and reinforcement, would inevitably
lead to the liberation of the entire territory of Bangladesh. Jacob was
not informed about the unqualified assurance of support in the
Security Council offered by Moscow on the eve of the war, or that
this was a factor that prompted issue of the new instructions to free
the whole of Bangladesh from Pakistani occupation. In Jacob’s view,
the Polish resolution of 14 December would have been ‘disastrous’
had it been adopted, since it called for withdrawal of Indian forces
from Bangladesh.5 He was unaware of the fact that the resolution
was drafted in close consultation with India; he was also unable to
parse the complex diplomatic document which did indeed call for an
Indian withdrawal, but only after transfer of power to the Awami
League and withdrawal of Pakistani troops from Bangladesh. Such
were the limitations of a system that allowed for little interaction
between soldiers and diplomats.


Henry Kissinger is unquestionably one of the most brilliant and
profound contemporary analysts of international affairs. He was not
at his best, however, in the 1971 crisis. Brushing aside all evidence
to the contrary, he maintained that India’s aim was to ‘smash’ West
Pakistan. In his memoirs, he misquotes a CIA report to justify this
assessment. He claims that the report indicated that India intended
to continue fighting on the western front after liberating Bangladesh,
in order to destroy the Pakistani army and air force, thus rendering
Pakistan defenceless.6 Views differed concerning the accuracy of
the report, and in any case the report only claimed that India
intended to destroy Pakistani ‘armoured forces’, not its army! The
CIA cable stated explicitly that the aim was to ‘destroy Pakistani
military striking power’, in other words, its offensive – not defensive –
capacity.7 Raymond Garthoff, historian of detente, points out that if
Kissinger’s aim was only to halt hostilities in the western front. ‘India
and the Soviet Union undoubtedly would have accepted this
outcome at any time in the crisis, without the acrobatics of triangular
diplomacy waged by a master geopolitician’.8 Indeed, the Soviet
resolution of 6 December called for a ceasefire on both fronts, along
with ‘effective action towards a political settlement in East Pakistan’.
‘We are standing alone against our public opinion, against our
whole bureaucracy at the very edge of legality,’ Kissinger informed
Bhutto on 11 December.9 By pursuing a policy that found little
support in the US Congress or public opinion, Nixon and Kissinger
deprived themselves of the most effective instruments of intervention
in Third World conflicts. Direct arms transfers to Pakistan were ruled
out by Congressional opinion. Economic assistance was subject to
tight controls. The threat of direct military intervention lacked
credibility, in view of US public opinion, as was evidenced in the
voyage of the USS Enterprise. Suspension of military sales and
economic aid to India had no more than a marginal impact, as had
been pointed out in advance by the State Department. What
remained was an unequalled US diplomatic influence in the United
Nations. This was demonstrated in the Security Council debates in
December, during which the United States was always able to rally
the support of the majority of the non-permanent members.
Kissinger’s geopolitical model suffered from a basic flaw. By
viewing India as a mere ‘client state’ or even a ‘proxy’ subject to
Soviet control,10 Kissinger converted a regional conflict into a global
contest between the superpowers, brushing aside the contrary views
of the State Department. Kissinger’s wild exaggeration of the degree
of Soviet influence in India led him to correspondingly overestimate
the potential for ‘linkage’ between the South Asian conflict and
progress towards detente between the superpowers. His apocalyptic
predictions of the geopolitical consequences of an Indian victory
proved to be baseless. Likewise, his expectation that deployment of
the Enterprise in the Indian Ocean would induce Chinese military
intervention turned out to be totally erroneous. His geopolitical model
was a caricature of international realities.

With the minor exception of the 1965 clashes in the Rann of Kutch,
the 1971 conflict was the only Indo-Pakistan war in which India’s
primary objective was not focused on Kashmir. The strategic aim of
the war was to speed up the liberation of Bangladesh, not to resolve
the Kashmir question. This fact is lost on critics, who allege that India
‘won the war but lost the peace’ in 1971 because a permanent
solution was not found for the Kashmir issue.
During the course of the war, once attainment of the basic strategic
aim was in sight, India adopted a secondary, add-on objective –
replacement of the UN-authorized 1949 ceasefire line in Jammu &
Kashmir by a bilaterally agreed Line of Control. The minor territorial
modification was less important than the underlying principle of
bilateralism. The aim was to make a permanent transition from
multilateral to bilateral forums for resolution of disagreements
between India and Pakistan. The Simla Agreement was a giant step
towards this goal. It shifted the focus from outdated UN resolutions
to bilaterally negotiated agreements for settlement of differences
between India and Pakistan. Five decades later, this contribution
continues to be relevant.
The myth that Indira Gandhi was persuaded by a cunning Bhutto to
give up her original aim of reaching a final agreement on Kashmir at
the Simla conference is belied by the facts. Every Indian draft
presented in the conference, including the final draft presented on
the last day, reserved a final settlement on Kashmir for a future date.
Mrs Gandhi did, indeed, hope for a final settlement on the basis of
converting the Line of Control to a formal international boundary over
a period of time, but she feared that her political opponents would
condemn her for ‘surrendering’ Indian territory if she were to do so at
Simla. Public opinion was not ready to accept an accord on these
terms – either in Pakistan or India. Indira Gandhi aimed to initiate a
move in the desired direction at Simla, while leaving a final
settlement to a future date.
Critics have argued that India held powerful bargaining counters in
Simla in the form of the 93,000 Pakistani POWs and the Pakistan
territory occupied by Indian forces; that these levers could have been
used to compel Pakistan to accept conversion of the Line of Control
in Jammu & Kashmir into a permanent international boundary; and
that Mrs Gandhi allowed herself to be persuaded by Bhutto to desist
from pressing for a final settlement of the Kashmir issue at Simla.
Their arguments show little understanding of international realities or
of
Mrs Gandhi’s objectives.
International law categorically prohibits the use of POWs as a
bargaining counter. Article 118 of the 1949 Geneva Convention
Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War says: ‘Prisoners of War
shall be released and repatriated without delay after the cessation of
active hostilities [emphasis added].’ Violation or rejection of the
Geneva Convention would not only have invited condemnation by
the international community but would also have deprived India of
the protection of the convention in any future conflict with Pakistan or
other powers. In calling for the surrender of Pakistani forces, Gen.
Manekshaw had repeatedly promised to respect the Geneva
Convention. These promises would have been dishonoured had
India chosen to flout international law. India had also repeatedly
assured the international community that it had no territorial designs
against Pakistan. Specific assurances in this regard had been given
to the two superpowers, the USSR and the US. The consensus UN
Security Council of 21 December 1971 ‘demanded’ that ‘withdrawals
take place, as soon as practicable, of all armed forces to their
respective territories’. While entering a caveat in regard to the 1949
ceasefire line, India had committed itself to an early withdrawal from
occupied territory in West Pakistan.
Indira Gandhi did not seek a final resolution of the Kashmir issue at
Simla. In the absence of a consensus on the matter in her own
country, she feared that she would be accused of ‘surrendering’
Pakistan-occupied Jammu & Kashmir, if she were to press for
immediate conversion of the Line of Control into an international
boundary. Her aim at Simla was to shift the focus from a multilateral
to a bilateral approach towards the Kashmir issue, and on this basis
to gradually transform the Line of Control into an international
boundary. She succeeded in large measure in achieving the first
objective. A final settlement of the Kashmir question will follow when
a sober and pragmatic calculation of the national interest triumphs
over ideological rigidity and hypernationalism in both Pakistan and
India.

Henry Kissinger famously described the infant state of Bangladesh in


1972 as an ‘international basket case’. History has proved him
wrong. The former East Pakistan had lagged behind West Pakistan
in economic development. But five decades later, Bangladesh has a
higher per capita GDP (PPP) than Pakistan. It is also ahead of
Pakistan in terms of important social indicators, such as life
expectancy at birth, years of schooling, and the Gender Gap Index.
Yesterday’s ‘basket case’ holds out promise of emerging as an Asian
success story.
Acknowledgements

Much of the archival research for this book was conducted in the
Nehru Memorial Museum and Library, which houses two particularly
important collections – the P.N. Haksar and the T.N. Kaul Papers.
The Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) files available in the National
Archives of India were also important sources of information. My
thanks are due to the ever-helpful staff of these fine institutions for
facilitating my work.
When I began working on this book, some years after my
retirement from the Indian Foreign Service, I requested the MEA for
permission to consult the relevant records. I am grateful to the
ministry for giving me access to its archives. The archives threw
further light on some important questions, in particular, India’s
assessment of developments in East Pakistan prior to 1971 and
policy debates before and after the 25 March crackdown on East
Bengal by Pakistan. My findings were set out in ‘The Decision to
Intervene: First Steps in India’s Grand Strategy in the 1971 War’,
Strategic Analysis, IDSA, 40:4, 321–33.
I am grateful to the Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Trust for awarding
me a Nehru Fellowship (2018 and 2019) for researching this book.
This encouraged me to complete my archival research at the Nehru
Memorial Museum and Library (NMML) and the National Archives of
India (NAI).
Nandini Mehta has been a constant source of encouragement ever
since I embarked on this project. I have derived much benefit also
from her judicious editorial advice.
Last but not least, I am inexpressibly grateful to my wife, Devika,
and our children, Sanjoy and Chitralekha. Mostly unknowingly, they
provided invaluable help in undertaking this task. By shielding me
from the mundane distractions of daily life, my guardian angel,
Devika, enabled me to remain pleasantly absorbed in the
contemplation of historical events. Large sections of this book were
drafted in the conducive peace and tranquillity of my children’s
homes in California. I am grateful to them for their silent
encouragement.
Annexure 1

Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Cooperation between


the Government of India and the Government of the
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
New Delhi
DESIROUS of expanding and consolidating the existing relations of
sincere friendship between them,
BELIEVING that the further development of friendship and
cooperation meets the basic national interests of both the States as
well as the interests of lasting peace in Asia and the world,
DETERMINED to promote the consolidation of universal peace and
security and to make steadfast efforts for the relaxation of
international tensions and the final elimination of the remnants of
colonialism,
UPHOLDING their firm faith in the principles of peaceful
coexistence and cooperation between States with different political
and social systems,
CONVINCED that in the world today international problems can
only be solved by cooperation and not by conflict, REAFFIRMING
their determination to abide by the purposes and principles of the
United Nations Charter,
The Republic of India on one side, and The Union of Soviet
Socialist Republics on the other side,
HAVE decided to conclude the present Treaty, for which purposes
the following Plenipotentiaries have been appointed:
On behalf of the Republic On behalf of the Union
of India: of Soviet Socialist Republics:
SARDAR SWARAN SINGH, Mr. A.A. GROMYKO,
Minister of External Affairs. Minister of Foreign Affairs.
WHO, having each presented their Credentials, which are found to
be in proper form and due order,
HAVE AGREED AS FOLLOW:
Article I
The High Contracting Parties solemnly declare that enduring peace
and friendship shall prevail between the two countries and their
peoples. Each Party shall respect the independence, sovereignty
and territorial integrity of the other party and refrain form interfering
in the other's internal affairs. The High Contracting Parties shall
continue to develop and consolidate the relations of sincere
friendship, good neighbourliness and comprehensive cooperation
existing between them on the basis of the aforesaid principles as
well as those of equality and mutual benefit.
Article II
Guided by the desire to contribute in every possible way to ensure
enduring peace and security of their people, the High Contracting
Parties declare their determination to continue their efforts to
preserve and to strengthen peace in Asia and throughout the world,
to halt the arms race and to achieve general and complete
disarmament, including both nuclear and conventional, under
effective international control.
Article III
Guided by their loyalty to the lofty ideal of equality of all Peoples and
Nations, irrespective of race or creed, the High Contracting Parties
condemn colonialism and reclaims in all forms and manifestations,
and reaffirm their determination to strive for their final and complete
elimination.
The High Contracting Parties shall cooperate with other States to
achieve these aims and to support the just aspirations of the peoples
in their struggle against colonialism and racial domination.
Article IV
The Republic of India respects the peace loving policy of the Union
of Soviet Socialist Republics aimed at strengthening friendship and
co-operation with all nations.
The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics respects India's policy of
non-alignment and reaffirms that this policy constitutes an important
factor in the maintenance of universal peace and international
security and in the lessening of tensions in the world.
Article V
Deeply interested in ensuring universal peace and security attaching
great importance to their mutual cooperation in the international field
for achieving those aims, the High Contracting Parties will maintain
regular contacts with each other on major international problems
affecting the interests of both of States by means of meetings and
exchanges of views between their leading statesmen, visits by
official delegations and special envoys of the two Governments, and
through diplomatic channels.
Article VI
Attaching great importance to economic, scientific and technological
co-operation between them, the High Contracting Parties will
continue to consolidate and expand mutually advantageous and
comprehensive co-operation in these fields as will as expand trade,
transport and communications between them on the basis of the
principles of equality, mutual benefit and most-favoured-nation
treatment, subject to the existing agreements and the special
arrangements with contiguous countries as specified in the Indo-
Soviet Trade Agreement of December 26, 1970.
Article VII
The High Contracting Parties shall promote further development of
ties and contacts between them in the fields of science, art,
literature, education, public health, press, radio, television, cinema,
tourism and sports.
Article VIII
In accordance with the traditional friendship established between the
two countries each of the High Contracting Parties solemnly declares
that it shall not enter into or participate in any military alliance
directed against the other party.
Each High Contracting Party undertakes to abstain from any
aggression against the other Party and to prevent the use of its
territory for the commission of any act which might inflict military
damage on the other High Contracting Party.
Article IX
Each High Contracting Party undertakes to abstain from providing
any assistance to any third party that engages in armed conflict with
the other Party. In the event of either Party being subjected to and
attach or a threat thereof, the High Contracting Parties shall
immediately enter into mutual consultations in order to remove such
threat and to take appropriate effective measures to ensure peace
and the security of their countries.
Article X
Each High Contracting Party solemnly declares that it shall not enter
into any obligations, secret or public, with one or more states, which
is incompatible with this Treaty. Each High Contracting Party further
declares that no obligation exists, nor shall any obligation be entered
into, between itself and any other State or States, which might cause
military damage to the other Party.
Article XI
This treaty is concluded for the duration of twenty years and will be
automatically extended for each successive period of five years
unless either High Contracting Party declares its desire to terminate
it by giving notice to the other High Contracting Party twelve months
prior to the expiration of the Treaty. The Treaty will be subject to
ratification and will come into force on the date of the exchange of
Instruments of Ratification which will take place in Moscow within
one month of the signing of this Treaty.
Article XII
Any difference of interpretation of any Article or Articles of this Treaty
that may arise between the High Contracting Parties will be settled
bilaterally by peaceful means in a spirit of mutual respect and
understanding.
The said Plenipotentiaries have signed the present Treaty in Hindi,
Russian and English, all texts being equally authentic and have
affixed thereto their seals.
DONE in New Delhi on the ninth day of August in the year one
thousand nine hundred and seventy one.

On behalf of the Republic


of India:
Sd/-
SARDAR SWARAN SINGH,
Minister of External Affairs.

On behalf of the Union


of Soviet Socialist Republics:
Sd/-
Mr. A..A. GROMYKO,
Minister of Foreign Affairs.
Annexure 2

Instrument of Surrender,
16 December 1971
The Pakistan Eastern Command agree to surrender all Pakistan
Armed Forces in Bangla Desh to Lieutenant-General Jagjit Singh
Aurora, General Officer Commanding in Chief of the Indian and
Bangladesh forces in the Eastern Theatre. This surrender includes
all Pakistan land, air and naval forces as also all paramilitary forces
and civil armed forces. The forces will lay down their arms and
surrender at the places where they are currently located to the
nearest regular troops under the command of Lieutenant-General
Jagjit Singh Aurora.
The Pakistan Eastern Command shall come under the orders of
Lieutenant-General Jagjit Singh Aurora as soon as this instrument
has been signed. Disobedience of orders will be regarded as a
breach of the surrender terms and will be dealt with in accordance
with the accepted laws and usages of war. The decision of
Lieutenant-General Jagjit Singh Aurora will be final, should any
doubt arise as to the meaning or interpretation of the surrender
terms.
Lieutenant-General Jagjit Singh Aurora gives a solemn assurance
that personnel who surrender shall be treated with dignity and
respect that soldiers are entitled to in accordance with the provision
of the Geneva Convention and guarantees the safety and well-being
of all Pakistan military and paramilitary forces who surrender.
Protection will be provided to foreign nationals, ethnic minorities and
personnel of West Pakistan origin by the forces under the command
of Lieutenant-General Jagjit Singh Aurora.

(Jagjit Singh Aurora)


Lieutenant-General
General Officer Commanding in Chief
Indian and Bangla Desh Forces
in the Eastern Theatre
16 December 1971

(Amin Abdullah Khan Niazi)


Lieutenant-General
Martial Law Administrator Zone B
and Commander Eastern
Command (Pakistan)
16 December 1971
Annexure 3

Final Indian Draft, Simla, 2 July 1971

Agreement on Bilateral Relations between


the Government of India and the
Government of Pakistan
1. The Government of India and the Government of Pakistan are
resolved that the two countries put an end to the conflict and
confrontation that have hitherto marred their relations and work for
the promotion of a friendly and harmonious relationship and the
establishment of durable peace in the subcontinent, so that both
countries may henceforth devote their resources and energies to the
pressing task of advancing the welfare of their peoples.
In order to achieve this objective, the Government of India and the
Government of Pakistan have agreed as follows:
(i) That the principles and purposes of the Charter of United Nations
shall govern the relations between the two countries;
(ii) That the two countries are resolved to settle their differences by
peaceful means through bilateral negotiations or by any other
peaceful means mutually agreed upon between them. Pending
the final settlement of any of the problems between the two
countries, neither side shall unilaterally alter the situation and both
shall prevent the organization, assistance or encouragement of
any acts detrimental to the maintenance of peaceful and
harmonious relations;
(iii) That the pre-requisite for reconciliation, good neighbourliness
and durable peace between them is a commitment by both the
countries to peaceful coexistence, respect for each other’s
territorial integrity and sovereignty and non-interference in each
other’s internal affairs, on the basis of equality and mutual benefit;
(iv) That the basic issues and causes of conflicts which have
bedeviled the relations between the two countries for the last 25
years shall be resolved by peaceful means;
(v) That they shall always respect each other’s national unity,
territorial integrity, political independence and sovereign equality;
(vi) That they will refrain from the threat or use of forces against the
territorial integrity or political independence of each other.
2. Both Governments will take steps within their power to stop hostile
propaganda directed against each other. Both countries will
encourage the dissemination of such information as would promote
the development of friendly relations between them.
3. In order progressively to restore and normalize relations between
the two countries step by step, it was agreed that:
(i) Steps shall be taken to resume communications, postal,
telegraphic, sea, land including border posts, and air links
including over-flights;
(ii) Appropriate steps shall be taken to promote travel facilities to the
nationals of the other country;
(iii) Trade and co-operation in economic and other agreed fields will
be resumed as far as possible;
(iv) Exchange in the fields of science and culture will be promoted.
In this connection delegations from the two countries will meet from
time to time to work out the necessary details.
4. In order to initiate the process of the establishment of durable
peace, both the Governments agree that:
(i) Indian and Pakistan forces shall be withdrawn to their side of the
international border.
(ii) In Jammu & Kashmir, the line of control resulting from the cease-
fire of December 17, 1971, shall henceforth be respected by both
sides, as a line of peace. Neither side shall seek to alter it
unilaterally, irrespective of mutual differences and legal
interpretations. Both sides further undertake to refrain from the
threat or the use of force in violation of this line.
(iii) Minor adjustments of the Line of Peace in Jammu & Kashmir or
the rest of the international border considered necessary by both
sides to make the border more rational and viable may be made
by mutual agreement.
(iv) A joint body composed of an equal number of representatives,
nominated by each Government, shall be appointed to establish
ground rules and to supervise the effective observance of the Line
of Peace and the rest of the border between the two countries.
The withdrawals shall commence upon entry into force of this
Agreement in accordance with the ground rules evolved by the
above-mentioned joint body and shall be completed within a
period of 30 days thereof.
5. This Agreement will be subject to ratification by both countries in
accordance with their respective constitutional procedures, and will
come into force with effect from the date on which the Instruments of
Ratification are exchanged.
6. Both Governments agree that their respective Heads will meet
again at a mutually convenient time in the future and that, in the
meanwhile, the representatives of the two sides will meet to discuss
further the modalities and arrangements for the establishment of
durable peace and normalization of relations, including question of
repatriation of prisoners of war and civilian internees, a final
settlement of Jammu & Kashmir and the resumption of diplomatic
relations.

(Indira Gandhi)
Prime Minister
Republic of India

(Zulfikar Ali Butto)


President
Islamic Republic of Pakistan

Simla, the _____ July, 1972


Annexure 4

Agreement Between the Government of India and the


Government of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan on
Bilateral Relations (Simla Agreement)
Simla, July 2, 1972
1. The Government of India and the Government of Pakistan are
resolved that the two countries put an end to the conflict and
confrontation that have hitherto marred their relations and work for
the promotion of friendly and harmonious relationship and the
establishment of durable peace in the sub-continent, so that both
countries may henceforth devote their resources and energies of the
pressing task of advancing the welfare of their people.
In order to achieve this objective, the Government of India and the
Government of Pakistan.
Have agreed as follows:
(i) That the principles and purposes of the Charter of the United
Nations shall govern the relations between the two countries;
(ii) That the two countries are resolved to settle their differences by
peaceful means through bilateral negotiations or by any other
peaceful means mutually agreed upon between them. Pending
the final settlement of any of the problems between the two
countries, neither side shall unilaterally alter the situation and both
shall prevent the organization, assistance or encouragement of
any acts detrimental to the maintenance of peaceful and
harmonious relations;
(iii) That the pre-requisite for reconciliation, good neighbourliness
and durable peace between them is a commitment by both the
countries to peaceful co-existence, respect for each other’s
internal affairs, on the basis of equality and mutual benefit;
(iv) That the basic issues and causes of conflict which have
bedeviled the relations between the two countries for the last 25
years shall be resolved by peaceful means;
(v) That they shall always respect each other’s national unity,
territorial integrity, political independence and sovereign equality;
(vi) That in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations they
will refrain from the threat or use of force against the territorial
integrity or political independence of each other.
2. Both Governments will take all steps within their power to prevent
hostile propaganda directed against each other. Both countries will
encourage the dissemination of such information as would promote
the development of friendly relations between them.
3. In order progressively to restore and normalize relations between
the two countries step by step, it was agreed that:
(i) Steps shall be taken to resume communications, postal,
telegraphic, sea, land including border posts, and air links
including overflights;
(ii) Appropriate steps shall be taken to promote travel facilities for the
national of the other country;
(iii) Trade and co-operation in economic and other agreed fields will
be resumed as far as possible;
(iv) Exchange in the fields of science and culture will be promoted.
In this connection delegations from the two countries will meet from
time to time to work out the necessary details.
4. In order to initiate the process of the establishment of durable
peace, both the Governments agree that:
(i) Indian and Pakistani forces shall be withdrawn to their side of the
international border;
(ii) In Jammu and Kashmir, the line of control resulting from the
cease-fire on December 17, 1971 shall be respected by both
sides without prejudice to the recognized position of either side.
Neither side shall seek to alter it unilaterally, irrespective of mutual
differences and legal interpretations. Both sides further undertake
to refrain from the threat or the use of force in violation of this
Line;
(iii) The withdrawals shall commence upon entry into force of this
Agreement and shall be completed within a period of 30 days
thereof.
5. This Agreement will be subject to ratification by both countries in
accordance with their respective constitutional procedures, and will
come into force with effect from the date on which the Instruments of
Ratification are exchanged.
6. Both Governments agree that the respective Heads will meet
again at a mutually convenient time in the future and that, in the
meantime, the representatives of the two sides will meet to discuss
further the modalities and arrangements for the establishment of
durable peace and normalization of relations, including the questions
of repatriation of prisoners of war and civilian internees, a final
settlement of Jammu and Kashmir and the resumption of diplomatic
relations.

Sd/-
Indira Gandhi
Prime Minister
Republic of India

Sd/-
Zulfikar Ali Butto
President
Islamic Republic of Pakistan

Simla, The 2nd July, 1972


Notes

1. Prelude: The Alienation of East Bengal


1. Cited in Richard Sisson and Leo E. Rose, War and Secession (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1990), 15–16. For Abul Mansur Ahmad’s own
account, see his memoirs, Aamaar Dekha Rajniti Panchas Bachhar (Fifty
Years of Politics as I Saw It) (Dhaka: Navroz Publishers, 1970), 2nd edn,
385–91.
2. Sisson and Rose, War and Secession, 10.
3. Ibid.
4. Mohammad Ayub Khan, Friends Not Masters (London: Oxford Universities
Press, 1967), 26.
5. For a detailed account of Jinnah’s visit to East Pakistan, see Badruddin
Umar, Purba Banglar Bhasa Andolan o Tatkalin Rajniti (The Language
Movement of East Bengal and Contemporary Politics) (Dhaka: Mowla
Brothers, 1970), Vol. 1, 104–26.
6. Talukder Maniruzzaman, The Bangladesh Revolution and Its Aftermath
(Dhaka: Bangladesh Books International, 1980), 57.
7. Ayesha Jalal, The Struggle for Pakistan (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 2014), 86.
8. Ibid., 90.
9. Ayesha Jalal, The State of Martial Rule: The Origins of Pakistan’s Political
Economy of Defence (New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, Indian
edition, 1992), 254.
10. Ahmed, Aamaar Dekha Rajniti Panchas Bachhar, 364–78.
11. Jalal, The State of Martial Law, 253.
12. Khan, Friends Not Masters, 54.
13. For the full text, see Ibid., 186–91.
14. Ibid., 221.
15. Ibid., 217.
16. Rounaq Jahan, Pakistan: Failure in National Integration (Bangladesh:
OUP, 1973), 159.
17. Syed Badrul Ahsan, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman (New Delhi: Niyogi Books,
2014), 63; Maj. Gen. A.T.M. Abdul Wahab, Mukti Bahini Wins Victory
(Dhaka: Columbia Prakashani, 2004), 65.
18. Mohammad H.R. Talukdar, ed., Memoirs of Huseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy
(Karachi: OUP, 2009), 207, 214.
19. Jahan, Pakistan: Failure in National Integration, 166.
20. Chandrashekhar Dasgupta, ‘The Decision to Intervene: First Steps in
India’s Grand Strategy in the 1971 War’, Strategic Analysis, vol. 40, no. 4.
(2016), 322. For Ray’s recollections, see Salam Azad, Contribution of India
in the Liberation of Bangladesh (New Delhi: Bookwell, 2006), 283.
21. Jalal, The Struggle for Pakistan, 130.
22. Daily Star, Dhaka, 12 June 2010.
23. Syed Badrul Ahsan, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman (New Delhi: Niyogi Books,
2014), 128.
24. Jahan, Pakistan: Failure in National Integration, 175.
25. Oehlert to State Department, 25 April 1969, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc.
18.
26. Hughes to Rogers, 20 February 1969, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 9.
27. See Dasgupta, ‘The Decision to Intervene’, 322.

2. Birth of a Nation
1. Shuja Nawaz, Crossed Swords (Karachi: OUP, 2017), 2nd edn., 260.
2. Nawaz, Crossed Swords, 264–65.
3. Sisson and Rose, War and Secession, 60.
4. On Bhutto’s collusion with the army, see Rafi Raza, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and
Pakistan 1967–1977 (Karachi: OUP, 1997), 82–85.
5. Kamal Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for Freedom and Justice (Karachi: OUP,
2013), 66.
6. Deputy High Commissioner of India, Dhaka, Fortnightly Political Report for
1–15 January, 1971, F. no. HI/1012(32)/71, National Archives of India.
7. Jairam Ramesh, Intertwined Lives: P.N. Haksar and Indira Gandhi (New
Delhi: Simon & Schuster, 2018), 496. Haksar was a civil servant of
exceptional ability and integrity – a combination that explained both his rise
and fall from grace under Indira Gandhi. Ramesh offers an excellent survey
of the complex relationship between the two.
8. Haksar to Prime Minister, 5 January 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no.
163, Nehru Memorial Museum and Library.
9. Haksar to Prime Minister, 9 March 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 164,
NMML.
10. Dasgupta, ‘The Decision to Intervene’, 321–33.
11. Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for Freedom and Justice, 67–8.
12. Sisson and Rose, War and Secession, 66–68.
13. Ibid., 69–70.
14. Raza, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan 1967–1977, 84–85.
15. Farland to State Department, 1 February 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7,
doc. 109.
16. Dasgupta, ‘The Decision to Intervene’, 325.
17. Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for Freedom and Justice, 72.
18. Pakistan Observer, 6 February 1971, reproduced in Bangladesh
Documents, I, 148–49.
19. Sisson and Rose, War and Secession, 81.
20. Raza, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan 1967–1977, 62; Sisson and Rose,
War and Secession, 85.
21. Sisson and Rose, War and Secession, 90.
22. Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for Freedom and Justice, 80.
23. Cited in Blood, The Cruel Birth of Bangladesh, (Dhaka: University Press,
2002), 28.
24. Raja, A Stranger in My Own Country: East Pakistan 1969–1971 (Karachi:
OUP, 2012), 51.
25. Ibid., 52.
26. Ibid., 63, fn; also see Nawaz, Crossed Swords, 266.
27. Raja, A Stranger in My Own Country, 65.
28. Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for Freedom and Justice, 86.
29. Raja, A Stranger in my Own Country, 61–2.
30. Dawn, Karachi, 8 March 1971, reproduced in Bangladesh Documents, I,
216–18.
31. Raza, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan, 71; Nawaz, Crossed Swords, 264.
32. Note (unsigned) on ‘PM’s Instructions about Assessment of East Pakistan
Affairs’, P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 220. The unsigned note was
probably Kao’s draft.
33. Mayeedul Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar (Main Currents of 1971), Dhaka:
University Press, 1986, 9–11.
34. Foreign Secretary from Sen Gupta, 14 March 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers,
III, F. 90 (a), NMML.
35. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 9–11.
36. Ibid.
37. Kissinger’s memorandum to Nixon, 22 February 1971, FRUS 1969–1976,
E-7, doc. 118.
38. Ibid.
39. Farland to Secretary of State, 25 February 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7,
doc. 119.
40. Farland (from Dhaka) to Secretary of State, 28 February 1971, 1969–1976,
E-7, doc. 121.
41. Memorandum from Saunders and Hoskinson to Kissinger, 1 March 1971,
FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 2.
42. Memorandum from the NSC Staff Secretary, 3 March 1971, FRUS 1969–
1976, E-7, doc. 123.
43. Minutes of Senior Review Group Meeting, 6 March 1971, FRUS 1969–
1976, vol. XI, doc. 6. Christopher Van Hollen, ‘The Tilt Policy Revisited:
Nixon–Kissinger Geopolitics and South Asia’, Asian Survey, vol. 20, no. 4
(April 1980), 340–41.
44. Blood to Secretary of State, 10 March 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc.
124.
45. Raja, A Stranger in My Own Country, 70–71.
46. There are differing accounts of the talks between Yahya and Mujib. The
narrative here is drawn largely from the first-hand account of Kamal
Hossain, Mujib’s constitutional adviser, and the well-researched study of
Pakistani sources by Hasan Zaheer. See Hossain, Bangladesh: Quest for
Freedom and Justice, 92–103, and Zaheer, The Separation of East
Pakistan, 149–59.
47. Blood, The Cruel Birth of Bangladesh, 193–94.
48. Dennis Kux, The United States and Pakistan 1947–2000: Disenchanted
Allies (Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Centre Press, 2001), 186.
49. The New York Times, 28 March 1971, cited in Bangladesh Documents, I,
380–81.
50. Blood’s Telegram to State Department, 28 March, 1971, FRUS 1969–76,
E-7, doc. 125.

3. Towards a Grand Strategy


1. P.N. Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency’, and Indian Democracy (New
Delhi: OUP, 2000), 151.
2. Keating to State Department, 27 March 1971, FRUS, 1969–76, vol. XI,
doc. 12.
3. For texts of the speeches of the prime minister and external affairs minister
on 27 March, see Bangladesh Documents, I, 669–71. See also G.K.
Reddy’s front-page report on the proceedings in The Hindu, 28 March 1971.
4. Bangladesh Documents, I, 669–71.
5. Mayeedul Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 13–14. For Tajuddin’s meetings with
BSF officials, see also Anirudh Deshpande, ed., The First Line of Defence:
Glorious 50 Years of the Border Security Force (New Delhi: Shipra
Publications, 2015), 30–31. For the Teliapara meeting, see Maj. Gen K.M.
Shafiullah, Bangladesh at War, 2nd edn. (Dhaka: Academic Publishers,
1995).
6. Cited in D.P. Dhar’s note to Prime Minister, 13 November 1971, MEA
Archives.
7. Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency’, and Indian Democracy’, 157.
8. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars Since Independence, Vol. I: The
Liberation of Bangladesh (New Delhi: Lancer Publishers, 1980), 20.
9. Haksar’s note on ‘Points which P.M. may like to make at the meeting with
the Opposition Leaders, to be held on Friday, May 7’. P.N. Haksar Papers,
III, F. no. 277, NMML.
10. ‘Final Review of Operation Jackpot’, appended in Manekshaw to Lall
(Defence Secretary), 4 May 1972. MEA Archives.
11. Lt Gen. J.F.R. Jacob, An Odyssey in War and Peace: An Autobiography
(New Delhi: Roli Books, 2011), 78.
12. Dhar, ‘Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency,’ and Indian Democracy,’ 156.
13. Blood to Rogers, 19 April 1971, cited in Gary J. Bass, The Blood Telegram:
India’s Secret War in East Pakistan (Noida: Random House India, 2013),
84.
14. Bass, The Blood Telegram, 84.
15. Ibid.
16. Haksar’s note, 17 April 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no.165, NMML.
17. Cabinet Secretary’s note to Prime Minister, 28 November 1971, MEA
Archives.

4. Mujibnagar
1. Bangladesh Documents, I, 282–86.
2. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 17–18; also see reports in Times of India, 13 April
1971, and in Bangladesh Documents, I, 286–87.
3. Bangladesh Documents, I, 289–91; Maj. Gen. A.T.M. Abdul Wahab, Mukti
Bahini Wins Victory (Dhaka, Columbia Prakashani, 2004), 143–50.
4. H.T. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971 (Dhaka: Agami Prakashani, 2004),
173–78, 206–07.
5. The P.N. Haksar Papers in NMML include copies of several classified
Pakistani documents.
6. Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury’s report to Acting President, Bangladesh
(undated), P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 229, NMML.
7. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 31–2.
8. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 77–79, 171.
9. Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency’, and Indian Democracy, 167–68.
10. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 8, 77–78.
11. Ibid., 152; Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 79.
12. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 50–51.
13. Ibid., 51–52.
14. Bangladesh Documents, I, 298–303, 307–17.
15. Text of address in Bangladesh Documents, I, 282–86.
16. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 39–40. Haksar’s note to Prime Minister, 6 May
1971, PNH III, F. no. 166.
17. Haksar to Dhar, 22 May 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 166; Haksar’s
notes to PM dated 13, 14 and 26 July 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F.
no.169. NMML.
18. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 75–77.
19. Ibid., 84-93; Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 241–44, 304, 538–41.
20. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 105–08.
21. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 167, 169–70, 388.
22. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 151–52; Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 313.
23. FRUS 1969–1976, Vol XI, documents No. 115, 133, 136, 149, 150, 164.
24. FRUS, 1969–1976, Vol XI, doc. 164.
25. J.N. Dixit, India–Pakistan: War and Peace (New Delhi: Books Today,
2002), 195–96.
26. Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency’, and Indian Democracy, 171; J.N.
Dixit, India–Pakistan, 195–96; Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 173–74; Imam,
Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 316.
27. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar.

5. Mukti Bahini
1. Mayeedul Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 15; Talukder Maniruzzaman, The
Bangladesh Revolution and its Aftermath (Dhaka: Bangladesh Books
International, 1980), 112; Maj. Gen. K.M. Safiullah, Bangladesh at War,
(Dhaka: Academic Publishers, 1995), 2nd edn., 71.
2. Text of minutes of cabinet meeting on 18 April 1971 in H.T. Imam,
Bangladesh Sarkar 1971 (Dhaka: Agami Prakashani, 2004), 379–80.
3. Anirudh Deshpande, ed., The First Line of Defence: Glorious 50 Years of
the Border Security Force (New Delhi: Shipra Publications, 2015), 33.
4. Manekshaw to Lall (Defence Secretary), 4 May 1972, forwarding ‘Final
Review of Operation Jackpot’, MEA Archives.
5. Lt Gen. J.F.R. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 90–91.
6. Manekshaw to Lall, 4 May 1972, ‘Final Review of Operation Jackpot’, MEA
Archives.
7. S.N. Prasad and U.P. Thapliyal (eds.), The India-Pakistan War of 1971
(Dehra Dun: Nataraj Publishers, 2014, an official publication of the Ministry
of Defence, New Delhi), 51, 69.
8. Manekshaw to Lall, 4 May 1972, ‘Final Review of Operation Jackpot’, MEA
Archives.
9. Mayeedul Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 105–08.
10. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 91–92; Maj. Gen. A.T.M. Abdul Wahab, Mukti
Bahini Wins Victory, 203–05; Prasad and Thapliyal (eds.), The India-
Pakistan War of 1971, 57.
11. Prasad and Thapliyal, The India-Pakistan War of 1971, 49.
12. For an account of the Kolkata conference, see Maj. Gen. K.M. Shafiullah,
Bangladesh at War (Dhaka: Academic Publishers, 1995), (Revised Edition),
142–45; Rafiqul Islam, A Tale of Millions: Bangladesh Liberation War –
1971 (Dhaka: Ananna, 1986), 234–43.; Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 48–49.
13. Report from Joint Director, RAW, Calcutta, 3 July 1971, P.N. Haksar III, F.
no. 227. P.N. Banerji was a brilliant intelligence officer whose achievements
still remain largely in the shadows. When RAW was carved out of the
Intelligence Bureau (IB) in 1969 as an independent external intelligence
agency, Banerji was assigned to the internal as well as the newly formed
external intelligence agency, being regarded as indispensable by both.
Banerji was responsible for handling Bangladesh affairs in the crucial pre-
and post-war periods. He played a pivotal role in the integration of Sikkim in
the Indian Union.
14. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars Since Independence, 34.
15. Prasad and Thapliyal, The India–Pakistan War of 1971, 56.
16. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 47. Hasan cites Lt Gen. B.N. Sarkar as the
source of the figure for destroyed Pakistani border outposts.
17. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 122. Hasan cites Maj. Gen. Sarkar as the source
of this information.
18. Fazal Muqeem Khan, Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership (Islamabad: National
Book Foundation, 1973), 109.
19. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 87. Manekshaw’s review of Operation Jackpot
for September 1971, MEA Archives.
20. For the full text of Osmani’s new Ops Plan, see Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar,
269–75.
21. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 43.
22. See note. 13 above.
23. Fazal Muqeem Khan, Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership, 108–09.
24. Ibid., 119.
25. Manekshaw’s review of Operation Jackpot for October 1971, MEA
Archives.
26. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 87.
27. Ibid., 71.
28. Ibid., 73.

6. Military Plans
1. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars Since Independence: The
Liberation of Bangladesh (New Delhi: Lancer, 1980), Vol. 1, 18.
2. Lt Gen. J.F.R. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca: Birth of a Nation (New Delhi:
Manohar, 2006), 46.
3. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 60.
4. Ibid., 61–62.
5. Lt Gen. K.P. Candeth, The Western Front: Indo-Pakistan War 1971
(Dehradun: The English Book Depot, 1997), 17.
6. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars Since Independence, 72–73, 90–
91.
7. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 65–67.
8. Adm. S.N. Kohli, We Dared – Maritime Operations in the 1971 Indo-
Pakistani War (New Delhi: Lancer International, 1989), 32.
9. Prasad and Thapliyal, The Indo-Pakistan War of 1971: A History (New
Delhi: Nataraj Publishers, 2014), 105–07.
10. Prasad and Thapliyal, The Indo-Pakistan War of 1971, 106–08.
11. Maj. Gen. Lachhman Singh, Victory in Bangladesh (Dehra Dun: Nataraj
Publishers, 1981), 46.
12. Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars Since Independence, 151.
13. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 77.
14. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 88–89; Maj. Gen. Shubhi Sood, Leadership:
Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw (Noida: SDS Publishers, 2006), 205; Maj.
Gen. Ashok Krishna, India’s Armed Forces: Fifty Years of War and Peace
(New Delhi: Lancer, 1998), 98–99.
15. Sood, Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw, 205; Singh, Victory in Bangladesh,
285; Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 171.
16. ACM P.C. Lal, My Years with the IAF (New Delhi: Lancer International,
1986), 167, 327.
17. Ministry of Defence (Government of India), Annual Report 1971–72, 13–
14.
18. Ibid., 15–16.
19. Lal, My Years with the IAF, 175.
20. Kohli, We Dared, 38.
21. Lal, My Years with the IAF, 162–67.
22. Ibid., 171.

7. Mobilizing World Opinion


1. Bangladesh Documents, I, 672.
2. Cited in Thomas M. Franck and Nigel S. Rodley, ‘After Bangladesh: The
Law of Humanitarian Intervention by Military Force’, The American Journal
of International Law, vol. 67, no. 2 (April 1972), 297.
3. Srinath Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh
(Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2013), 133.
4. Cited in Ibid., 139.
5. Cited in Raghavan, 164.
6. Statement by the Acting Prime Minister of New Zealand, 14 April 1971,
Bangladesh Documents, I, 505–06.
7. Statement by the Prime Minister of Australia, 22 April 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, I, 502.
8. Podgorny to Yahya Khan, 2 April 1971, Bangladesh Documents, I, 510–11.
9. Statement by Abba Eban in the Knesset, 23 June 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 154–55.
10. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 182–83.
11. Ibid., 147–48.
12. UNHCR’s press conference, Paris, 9 July 1971, Bangladesh Documents, I,
612–14.
13. Statement by Ambassador S. Sen at the Social Committee of ECOSOC,
12 and 17 May 1971. Bangladesh Documents, Vol. I, 69–75.
14. Gandhi to Nixon, 13 May 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 46.
15. Statement in Lok Sabha, 24 May, Bangladesh Documents, I, 672–75.
16. Foreign Affairs Record, November 1971. Ministry of External Affairs, New
Delhi.
17. Swaran Singh’s address to Indian diplomats, London, 20 June 1971, T.N.
Kaul Papers (Parts I–III), F. no. 19, NMML.
18. Zaheer, The Separation of East Pakistan, 201.
19. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 98.
20. Cited in Ibid., 166.
21. Heath to Yahya Khan, 11 June 1971, cited in Raghavan, 1971: A Global
History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 165.
22. Cited in Raghavan, ibid., 166.
23. Ibid., 166–67.
24. Swaran Singh address to Indian diplomats in London, 20 June 1971,
T.N. Kaul Papers (Parts I–III), F. no. 19, NMML; Statement of the
spokesman of the French Foreign Ministry, 12 June 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, I, 505.
25. Swaran Singh’s statement in Lok Sabha, 6 July 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, I, 698.
26. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 159.
27. Cited in ibid., 173.
28. Ibid., 173.
29. Cited in Henry Kissinger, WHY (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1979), 714.
30. Christopher Van Hollen, ‘The Tilt Policy Revisited: Nixon–Kissinger
Geopolitics and South Asia’, Asian Survey, vol. 20, no. 4 (April 1980), 339–
61.
31. FRUS, E-7, doc. 132; FRUS, SAC, doc. 32; WHY, 854.
32. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 36.
33. State Department to US Embassy in India, 17 June 1971, FRUS 1969–
1976, XI, doc. 74.
34 State Department to Embassy in India, 17 June, 1971, FRUS, 1969–76, XI,
doc. 74.
35. FRUS, XI, doc. 73 (Editorial Note).
36. Conversation among Nixon, Kissinger, Singh and Sisco, 16 June 1971,
FRUS, E-7, doc. 138; editorial note, FRUS, 1969–1976, XI, doc. 73.
37. Swaran Singh’s address to Indian diplomats, London, 20 June 1971,
T.N. Kaul Papers (Parts I–III), F. no. 16, NMML.
38. Van Hollen, The Tilt Policy Revisited, 341, 343.
39. State Department to Embassy in India, 26 June 1971, FRUS, 1969–1976,
XI, doc. 79.
40. India’s reply to UNSG, 2 August 1971, Bangladesh Documents, I, 660–63.
41. UNSG’s memorandum, 20 July 1971, Bangladesh Documents, I, 658–59.
42. India’s reply to UNSG’s aide memoire, 2 August 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, I, 661.
43. UNGA General Debate – References to Bangladesh, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 374–75.

8. A ‘Geopolitical Revolution’
1. Kissinger, WHY, 171.
2. Chen Jian, Mao’s China and the Cold War, Chapel Hill: University of North
Carolina Press, 2001), chap. 9, 249.
3. Margaret MacMillan, Nixon and Mao: The Week that Changed the World
(New York: Random House, 2008), xx.
4. Jian, Mao’s China and the Cold War, 251.
5. Kissinger, WHY, 691.
6. Ibid., 698–704
7. Haksar to Dhar, 7 April 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 165., NMML.
8. Haksar to Dhar, 15 April 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 165, NMML.
9. Keating to State Department, 27 March 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc.
12.
10. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 24.
11. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, docs 37 and 38.
12. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 39.
13. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 46.
14. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 62.
15. FRUS 1969–1976, doc. 73, Editorial Note.
16. Haksar’s record of his discussions with Kissinger, 6 July 1971; record of
discussions between Minister of External Affairs and Kissinger,
P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 229, NMML; FRUS 1969–1976, XI, docs 90–
4; FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 139..
17. Haksar’s record of his discussions with Kissinger, 6 July 1971, P.N. Haksar
Papers III, F. no. 229.
18. Record of Kissinger’s meeting with Defence Minister, 7 July 1971,
P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 229.
19. Memorandum, NSC Meeting, 16 July 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI,
doc.103.
20. Jha to Kaul, 17 July 1971, MEA Archives.
21. Kissinger, WHY, 866.

9. The Indo-Soviet Treaty


1. The group comprised Ceylon (Sri Lanka), the United Arab Republic,
Cambodia, Ghana, Indonesia and Burma.
2. Dhar to Kaul, 26 March 1969, MEA Archives.
3. Bhandari to Dhar, 27 March 1969, P.N. Haksar Papers, P.N. Haksar Papers,
III, F. no. 203. NMML.
4. Haksar’s marginal note on letter from Dhar to Kewal Singh, 31 March 1969,
P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 203, NMML.
5. Kaul’s note on discussions between Dhar and Dinesh Singh, 7 April 1969,
P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 203, NMML. Dinesh Singh’s marginal
comments on Kaul’s note are found in the MEA Archives.
6. Gandhi to Kosygin, n.d., circa 18 April 1969, P.N. Haksar Papers, II, F. no.
41., NMML.
7. Dhar to Kaul, 30 April 1969, MEA Archives.
8. Dinesh Singh’s minute, 4 May 1969, MEA Archives.
9. Dhar to Kewal Singh, 29 May 1969, MEA Archives; Kaul to Dhar, 31 May
1969, MEA Archives.
10. Record of Soviet Ambassador’s discussions with Foreign Minister on 21
April 1969, MEA Archives.
11. Record of conversation between Gandhi and Kosygin on 6 May 1969, P.N.
Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 140, NMML.
12. Haksar to Gandhi, 3 June 1969, P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 140. NMML.
13. Kaul’s note to Dinesh Singh, 25 August 1969, and linked draft treaty, MEA
Archives.
14. Dhar to Kaul, 21 September 1969, MEA Archives.
15. Kaul to Dhar, 11 October 1969, MEA Archives.
16. Dennis Kux, The United States and Pakistan 1947 –2000: Disenchanted
Allies (Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Centre Press, 2001), 180;
Sultan Mohammed Khan, Memories and Reflections of a Pakistani
Diplomat,
233–34.
17. Sultan Mohammed Khan, Memories and Reflections of a Pakistani
Diplomat, 234.
18. Bhandari to Dinesh Singh, 2 November 1969, MEA Archives. See also
Dhar to Kewal Singh, 31 March 1971, and enclosed letter from Bhandari,
P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 203, NMML.
19. Lt. Gen. J.F.R. Jacob, An Odyssey in War and Peace: An Autobiography
(New Delhi: Roli Books, 2011), 78.
20. Kaul’s note to Haksar and Prime Minister, 15 June 1971, P.N. Haksar
Papers, III, F. no. 89. NMML.
21. Ibid.
22. Ibid.
23. Kaul’s note to Foreign Minister and Prime Minister, 17 July 1971, MEA
Archives.
24. Ibid.
25. Jha to Kaul, 17 July 1971, MEA Archives.
26. Kaul’s memorandum for Foreign Minister and Prime Minister, 3 August
1971, P.N. Haksar Papers, II, F. no. 49, NMML.
27. Jaipal (Ambassador in Belgrade) to Kaul, 9 August 1971, MEA Archives.

10. Working the Treaty


1. Record of Meeting, Swaran Singh–Gromyko, 9 August 1971 (afternoon),
MEA Archives.
2. Records of Meetings, EAM–Gromyko, 10 August 1971 (morning and
evening respectively), MEA Archives.
3. Record of Meeting, EAM–Gromyko, 11 August 1971, MEA Archives.
4. Jamsheed Marker, Quiet Diplomacy: Memoirs of an Ambassador of
Pakistan (Karachi: OUP, 2010), 132.
5. Sultan M. Khan, Memoirs and Reflections of a Pakistani Diplomat, 320–22.
6. Marker, Quiet Diplomacy, 133.
7. Record of Dhar–Firyubin talks, 23 September 1971, MEA Archives.
8. Record of Dhar–Firyubin talks, 24 September 1971, MEA Archives.
9. Record of Prime Minister’s meeting with Soviet leaders, 28 September 1971
(morning), MEA Archives.
10. Record of Prime Minister’s meeting with Soviet leaders, 28 September
1971 (4–6 p.m.), MEA Archives.
11. D.P. Dhar’s note to Haksar regarding his meeting with Sheikh Mujib, 29
January 1972, P.N. Haksar Papers, III, F. no. 233 (Supplement).
12. Indo-Soviet Joint Statement, September 29, 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 161–64.
13. Keating to Secretary of State, 9 October 1971, in F.S. Aijazuddin, ed., The
White House and Pakistan: Secret Declassified Documents, 1969–74
(Karachi: OUP, 2002), 305.
14. Marker, Quiet Diplomacy, 133.
15. Khan, Memoirs and Reflections of a Pakistani Diplomat, 341.
16. Venkateswaran’s note to Foreign Secretary, 21 September 1971, MEA
Archives.
17. S.K. Banerji’s note on discussions between Foreign Minister and Firyubin,
25 October 1971, MEA Archives.
18. Note recorded by Counsellor Purushottam (Counsellor, Indian embassy,
Moscow), 3 November 1971, MEA Archives.

11. Indira Gandhi Visits Western Capitals


1. Record of discussions between Foreign Minister and US ambassador, 12
October 1971, MEA Archives; Keating to State Department, 12 October
1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 167.
2. Indira Gandhi’s broadcast to the nation, 23 October 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 251–52.
3. H.Y. Sharda Prasad, ‘Vision and Warm Heart’, in Bidyut Sarkar, ed., P.N.
Haksar: Our Times and the Man (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1989);
Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 226.
4. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 229.
5. Record of Prime Minister’s talks with UK Foreign Secretary, 1 November
1971, MEA Archives.
6. Summary of discussions between Kaul and Greenhill, 2 November 1971,
MEA records.
7. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 230.
8. Kaul’s circular telegram to Indian missions on Prime Minister’s tour, 18
November 1971, MEA Archives.
9. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 229.
10. Kaul’s circular telegram, 18 November 1971, MEA Archives.
11. Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, 231.
12. Kaul’s circular telegram, 18 November 1970, MEA Archives.
13. PM’s discussions with Prime Minister Eyskens, 25 October 1971, MEA
Archives.
14. Jha to Kaul, 12 August 1971, MEA Archives.
15. Jha to Kaul, 16 October 1971, MEA Archives.
16. Conversation between Nixon, Kissinger, British Foreign Secretary
Douglas-Home and British Ambassador Cromer, 30 September 1971,
FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 146.
17. FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 146, fn 3.
18. Memorandum for the President’s File. Meeting Between President Nixon
and Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, 4 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI,
doc. 179.
19. Farland to Kissinger, 19 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 192.
20. Kaul–Irwin discussions, 5 November 1971, MEA Archives.
21. Kissinger, WHY, 873, 876, 881.
22. Memorandum from the Deputy Administrator of the Agency for
International Development, 5 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc.
152.
23. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 188.
24. Newsweek, 15 November 1971 (reproduced in Bangladesh Documents, II,
295).
25. Prime Minister’s statement in Parliament, 15 November 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 292–94.

12. Prelude to War


1. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971 (Dhaka: Agami Prakashani, 2004), 315.
Mayeedul Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 177.
2. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 316–17; Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 182.
3. Imam, Bangladesh Sarkar 1971, 319–20.
4. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 87; Maj. Gen. Sukhwant Singh, India’s Wars
Since Independence, 92.
5. Hasan, Muldhara Ekattar, 170.
6. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 71.
7. Ibid., 73.
8. Maj. Gen. Shaukat Riza, cited in Nawaz, Crossed Swords: Pakistan, its
Army, and the Wars Within (Karachi: OUP, 2017), 2nd edn, 292.
9. Minutes of Washington Special Actions Group (WSAG) meeting, 22
November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 194.
10. Minutes of WSAG Meeting, 29 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI,
doc. 209.
11. Conversation between Nixon, Kissinger and Rogers, 24 November 1971,
FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 156.
12. Farland to Kissinger, 26 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 204.
13. Irwin to Keating, 27 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 206.
14. Irwin to Beam, 27 November 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 207.
15. Kissinger’s memorandum to Nixon, 1 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976,
doc. 211.
16. Rogers to Keating, 1 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 212.
17. Dhar to Prime Minister, 28 November 1971 (10.30 a.m. and 12.30 p.m.,
respectively), MEA Archives.
18. Kaul to Swaran Singh, 30 November 1971, MEA Archives.
19. Record of Prime Minister’s conversation with Ambassador Pegov, 30
November 1971, MEA Archives.
20. U Thant, View from the UN (Newton Abbot (UK: David & Charles, 1978),
427–28.
21. Cabinet Secretary’s Note to Prime Minister, 28 November 1971, MEA
Archives.
22. Dhar to Ray, 4 December 1971; Ray to Kaul, 6 December 1971, MEA
Archives.

13. War and Diplomacy


1. Zaheer, The Separation of East Pakistan, 360.
2. Arjun Subramaniam, India’s Wars: A Military History, 1947–1971 (New
Delhi: HarperCollins, 2016), 394.
3. Bangladesh Documents, II, 588.
4. Kissinger, WHY, 888.
5. Memorandum from Kissinger to Nixon, 2 December 1970, FRUS, XI, doc.
214.
6. Cited in Kissinger, WHY, 136.
7. Cited in K.P. Misra, The Role of the United Nations in the Indo-Pakistan
Conflict, 1971 (New Delhi: Vikas Publishing House, 1973), 63.
8. Statement by Agha Shahi, 4 December 1971. Bangladesh Documents, II,
417, 419–20.
9. Statement by Samar Sen, 4 December 1971, ibid., 427, 429.
10. Statement by Jacov Malik, 4 December 1971, ibid., 439–41.
11. Statement by Kosciusko-Morizet, 4 December 1971, ibid., 434.
12. Statement by Colin Crowe, 4 December 1971, ibid., 442.
13. Statement by Huang Hua, 5 December 1971, ibid., 443.
14. UN doc. S/10416, 4 December 1971.
15. UN doc. S/10418, 4 December 1971.
16. UN doc. S/10421, 5 December 1971.
17. UN doc. S/10423, 5 December 1971.
18. Bangladesh Documents, II, 462–67.
19. UN doc. S/10428, 6 December 1971.
20. UN doc. A/L 647/Rev. 1, 7 December 1971.
21. UN doc. A/L 648, 7 December 1971.
22. See Misra, The Role of the United Nations in the Indo-Pakistani Conflict,
1971, 90.
23. Minutes of NSC meeting, 6 December 1971, FRUS, SAC, doc. 237.
24. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 243, fn 4.
25. Nixon–Kissinger conversation, 9 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7,
doc. 168.
26. Zaheer, The Separation of East Pakistan, 381–82.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid., 383–84.
29. Ibid., 388.
30. FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 251 (editorial note).
31. Ibid., XI, doc. 256 (editorial note).
32. Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr, On Watch: A Memoir (New York: Quadrangle/The
New York Times Book Co., 1976), 360, 367.
33. Kissinger–Huang Hua conversation, 10 December 1971, FRUS 1969–
1976, XI, doc. 274.
34. Chen Jian, Mao’s China and the Cold War (Chapel Hill: The University of
North Carolina Press, 2000), 273.
35. Kissinger to Haig, 13 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 294.
36. Indira Gandhi, Years of Endeavour: Selected Speeches, August 1969 to
August 1972, New Delhi: Publications Division, Government of India.
37. Yahya Khan to Nixon, 14 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 298.
38. Zumwalt, On Watch, 368; James M. McConnell and Anne M. Kelly,
‘Superpower Naval Diplomacy: Lessons of the Indo-Pakistan Crisis 1971’,
Survival (November–December 1973), 15:6.
39. Nixon to Brezhnev, 6 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 236.
40. Brezhnev to Nixon, 8 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 253.
41. Conversation between Nixon and Soviet Minister of Agriculture, 9
December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc. 169.
42. Nixon to Brezhnev, 10 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 269.
43. Haksar to Dhar, 14 December 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 174;
Record of Dhar–Kosygin meeting, 14 December 1971, MEA Archives.
44. Message from the Soviet Leadership to President Nixon, 14 December
1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI, doc. 295.
45. Jha–Irwin conversation, 12 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, E-7, doc.
181; Van Hollen, The Tilt Policy Revisited, 352; L.K. Jha, ‘Kissinger and I’,
India Today, 1–15 November 1979, 55.
46. Bush to State Department, 12 December 1971, FRUS 1969–1976, XI,
doc. 289.
47. Memorandum from Kissinger to Nixon, 12 December 1971, FRUS 1969–
1976, XI, doc. 282.
48. UN doc. S/10446, 12 December 1971. On 13 December, the United States
submitted a revised draft with a small amendment (UN doc. S/10446/Rev
1). The amended resolution was put to vote the same day.
49. Swaran Singh’s speech, 13 December 1971, Bangladesh Documents, II,
532, 545.
50. UN doc. S/10451, 13 December 1971.
51. Haksar’s note to Prime Minister, 13 December 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers
III, F. no. 174.
52. Note for PAC (prepared by Haksar), 13 December 1971, P.N. Haksar
Papers III, F. no. 174.
53. UN doc. S/10453, 14 December 1971.
54. Zaheer, The Separation of East Pakistan, 401.
55. Prasad and Thapliyal, The India-Pakistan War of 1971, 410; Zaheer, The
Separation of East Pakistan, 405.
56. Prasad and Thapliyal, The India–Pakistan War of 1971, p. 402; See also
Zaheer, The Separation of East Pakistan, 405.
57. Prasad and Thapliyal, The India-Pakistan War of 1971, 411.
58. UN doc. S/10455, 15 December 1971.
59. Haksar to Kaul, 15 December 1971, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no. 173.
60. UN doc. S/10456, 15 December 1971.
61. UN doc. S/10457, 15 December 1971.
62. Prime Minister’s statement in parliament, 16 December 1971, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 550.

14. Victory
1. For the full text, see Bangladesh Documents, II, 360.
2. Speech by Foreign Minister of India, Sardar Swaran Singh, 21 December
1971, Bangladesh Documents, II, 546–48.
3. Kewal Singh, Partition and Aftermath: Memoirs of an Ambassador (New
Delhi: Vikas Publishing House, 1991), 211–13.
4. Foreign Affairs Record, Vol. XVIII, 1972.
5. Exchange of letters between Foreign Secretary Kaul and Bangladesh High
Commissioner H.R. Choudhury, 17 January 1972. Foreign Affairs Record,
Vol XVIII, 1972.
6. Indo-Bangladesh Joint Statement, 8 February 1972, Bangladesh
Documents, II, 636–67.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency,’ and Indian Democracy (New Delhi:
OUP, 2000), 194.
10. Raza, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan 1967–1977, 200–02.
11. The Statesman, Kolkata, 27 March 1972.
12. For the text of the interview, see Oriana Fallaci, Interview with History
(Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1976), 182–209.
13. Indira Gandhi to Brezhnev, 26 April 1972, P.N. Haksar Papers III, F. no.
180.
14. The Indian records are compiled in Avtar Singh Bhasin, ed., India-Pakistan
Relations 1947–2007 – A Documentary Study, vol. III, (New Delhi: Geetika
Publishers, 2012), vol. III, 1710–54; Rafi Raza, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and
Pakistan 1967–1977 (Karachi: OUP, 1997), 200–15; Abdul Sattar,
Pakistan’s Foreign Policy 1947–2012 (Karachi: OUP, 2013), 3rd edn. chap.
11, 139–59; Dhar, Indira Gandhi, the ‘Emergency’ and Indian Democracy
(New Delhi: OUP, 2000), chap. 9, 187–222; Dhar, ‘Kashmir: The Simla
Solution’, Journal of Peace Studies, vol. 2, issues 9–10 (March–June 1995)
(reprinted from The Times of India, 4 April 1995).
15. Raza, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan 1967–1977, 207–08.
16. Summary Record, 28 June 1972; Bhasin, 1711–18.
17. For the text, see Bhasin, 1732–33.
18. Summary Record, 29 June 1972 (10 a.m.); Bhasin, 1720–22.
19. For the text, see Bhasin, 1727–29.
20. Summary Record, 29 June 1972 (5.30 p.m.); Bhasin, 1723–26.
21. For the text, see Bhasin, 1730–31.
22. Summary Record, 30 June 1972 (3 p.m.); Bhasin, 1733–37.
23. For the text, see Bhasin, 1745–46.
24. For the text, see Bhasin, 1747–48.
25. Record of meeting between the Prime Minister and the Indian Delegation
and President of Pakistan and the Pakistan Delegation held at 3.45 p.m. on
1 July 1972, Bhasin, 1738–44.
26. T.N. Kaul, Diplomacy in Peace and War (New Delhi: Vikas, 1979), 191.
27. Raza, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Pakistan 1967–1977, 209.
28. Record of discussions between Foreign Minister and Pegov, 5 July 1972,
MEA Archives.
29. Sattar, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy 1947–2016, 149–50.

15. Conclusion
1. For a fascinating account of the complex relationship between Haksar and
the Prime Minister, see Jairam Ramesh, Intertwined Lives: P.N. Haksar and
Indira Gandhi (New Delhi: Simon & Schuster, 2018).
2. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 160.
3. ACM P.C. Lal, My Years with the IAF (New Delhi: Lancers International,
1986), 171.
4. Jacob, Surrender at Dacca, 171.
5. Ibid., 163.
6. Kissinger, WHY, 901.
7. For the text of the CIA cable, see FRUS, XI, doc. 246. See also Bass, The
Blood Telegram, 290.
8. Cited in Walter Isaacson, Kissinger: A Biography, 378.
9. Telephone conversation between Kissinger and Bhutto, December 11, 1971,
FRUS, XI, doc. 280.
10. Kissinger regularly described India as a Soviet ‘client state’. He describes
the 1971 war as a ‘proxy war’ in WHY (1255).
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Index

Acharya B.K.
Action Bangladesh
Afghanistan
Agartala Conspiracy Case
Ahmed Abul Mansur
Ahmed Aziz
Ahmed Khondaker Mushtaque
and the US
Ahmed Prof. Muzaffar
Ahmed Tajuddin
faith in India
Ahmed Tofail
Ahsan Admiral
Aid Consortium
Akwei Ambassador
Ali Capt. Mansoor
Ali Capt. Shawkat
Ali Capt. Sujat
Ali Hossain
Ali Mahmud
Amnesty International
Arms embargo on Pakistan/India
Aurora Lt. Gen. J.S.
Australia
Austria
Awami League
alerting India
Awami League Sangram Parishads
East Pakistan Student League
presidential proclamation
Working Committee
See also East Pakistan Awami [People’s] Muslim League
Azad Abdus Salam
Baez Joan
Banerji P.N.
Banerji S.K.
Bangladesh
armed forces
cause
Commonwealth member
declaration as
delegation to UN
flag
GDP
governmentinexile
Indian assistance
international diplomatic recognition
liberation of
National Advisory Committee
People’s Republic of
postliberation
reconstruction of services
Treaty of Peace with India
Bangladesh Air Force
Bangladesh Congress Party
Bangladesh Forces Headquarters
Bangladesh Liberation War ()
alienation of East Pakistan
armed advance
armed readiness
call for ceasefire
conspiracy theory
consolidated attack plan
demand for autonomy
formal declaration of war
guerrilla operations
Indian army
Indian assistance sought
Indian asylum
international assistance
international opinion
international press coverage
international recognition
international sympathy
labour rights
noncooperation
POWs repatriation
proclamation of independence
Purbani Hotel
radical reactionary movement
Sangram Parishads
selective genocide
Siliguri conference
spontaneous resistance
start of war
student mobilization
transfer of power
War Council
Beijing
Bengal Liberation Force
Bengali language
Bhandari Romesh
Bhashani Maulana
Bhattacharya D.K.
Bhutan
Bhutto Zulfikar Ali
Biafra
Blood Archer
Bogra Mohammed Ali
Bongaigaon
Bose Sarat
Brandt Chancellor Willy
Brezhnev
Bush Ambassador George HW
Canada
Candeth Lt Gen. K.P.
Ceausescu President
Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)
Chashi Mahbubul Alam
Chaudhuri Gen. J.N.
Chen Yi
China People’s Republic of
doublefaced game
Cultural Revolution
opposition to Bangladesh
SinoPakistan relations
threat to India
Chittagong
Chowdhury Justice Abu Sayeed
Chowdhury Mizanur Rahman
Cold War
Colombo Proposals
Communist Party of Bangladesh (CPB)
Connally John
Cornelius Justice
Crowe Ambassador
Cushman
Dasgupta Chandrashekhar
Detente
SinoAmerican
SovietAmerican
Soviet policy
Dhaka
defense
farewell parade in Stadium
liberation
military advance on
Pakistani surrender
studentled protests
US Consulate General
Dhar Durga Prasad
Dhar P.N.
DouglasHome Alec
Dutt Ambassador Subimal
Dutta Dhirendra Nath
Dylan Bob
East Bengal Awami League
East Bengal Battalions
East Bengal Regiment (EBR)
East Pakistan
armed militia
demands to the Centre
democratic election
development
divide with West Pakistan
Eastern command
genocide
Governor’s rule
human rights violation
inoculation campaign
language movement
Parliamentary representation
People’s Republic of Bangladesh
proChina Naxalites
reign of terror .
media coverage
religious secularism
‘Resistance Day’
trade and foreign exchange earnings
East Pakistan Awami [People’s] Muslim League
See also Awami League
East Pakistan Rifles (EPR)
Eastern Theatre
Eban Abba
Estate Acquisition and Tenancy Act
Eyskens Prime Minister Gaston
Farland J.S.
Federal Republic of Germany (FRG)
Firyubin Nikolai
France
Galbraith John Kenneth
Gandhi Indira
and Bhutto
Garthoff Raymond
German Democratic Republic (GDR)
Ghose Arundhati (‘Chuku’)
Gill Maj. Gen. Gurbux Singh
Ginsburg Allen
Grechko Marshal Andrei
Greenhill Sir Dennis
Gromyko Soviet Foreign Minister
Gul General Rahman
Haig Alexander
Haksar Parmeshwar Narain
Hallstein Doctrine
Harrison George
Hasan Lt Gen. Gul
Hasan Mayeedul
Heath Edward
Helms Richard
Henri Paul Marc
Hilaly Agha
Hitler Adolf
Hossain Kamal
Hossain Lt Cdr Moazzem
Hua Ambassador Huang
Huq Amjadul
Huq Fazlul
Krishak Sramik Party
Huq Sheikh Fazlul Moni
Imam Hossain Towfiq
ImportExport Controller
INS Beas
INS Brahmaputra
INS Vikrant
India
war with China
war with Pakistan
and Bangladesh
and ramifications of secession
and US
and USSR
arms for Bangladesh
Border Security Force (BSF)
Congress Party
defence inadequacy
Defence Ministry
Directorate of Military Operations
economic development
embassy in Dhaka
facilitating press coverage
Friendship Treaty with USSR
foreign policy
Green Revolution
hopes of reconciliation
Kashmir issue
unresolved
violation of ceasefire line
Line of Control
MEA (Ministry of External Affairs)
Nonalignment
Pakistani border provocations
promise of asylum
recognition of Bangladesh
refugees
problem of
relief operations
repatriation
Research and Analysis Wing (RAW)
Simla summit
Agreement
sympathy with civilians
threat to security
Treaty of Peace with Bangladesh
updated maps of East Pakistan
West Bengal Naxal insurgency
IndiaBangladesh crossborder
IndiaBangladesh Joint Command
Indian Air Force
Jamnagar base
Indian army
armed advance
artillery cover
training freedom fighters
Indian Army Headquarters (AHQ)
Indian diplomacy
decision to support secession
declaration of support
horrified disbelief
neutrality
policy decisions
‘Policy Planning Committee’
Special Committee of Secretaries
strategy
international sympathy
media appeal
military
‘Operation Jackpot’
political
postliberation
superpower alignment
withdrawal of forces
Indian Navy
IndoPak relations/negotiations
IndoUS relations
International Monetary Fund (IMF)
International Red Cross
Iran
Irwin John
Islam Syed Nazrul
Islamabad
Israel
Israel Defence Force
Ittefaq
Jacob Lt. Gen. J.F.R.
Jahan Rounaq
Jalal Ayesha
Jha L.K.
Jinnah Fatima
Jinnah Mohammed Ali
Johnson Alexis
Kamaruzzaman A.H.M.
Kao Ramji
Karachi
Kashmir
Pakistanoccupied
Katanga
Kaul T.N.
Keating Ambassador Kenneth
Khan Abdul Jabbar
Khan Ali Akbar
Khan Field Marshal Mohammad Ayub
Khan General Agha Mohammad Yahya
Khan Lt Gen. Tikka
Khan Lt Gen. Yaqub
Khan Major General Rao Farman Ali
Khan Prime Minister Liaquat Ali
Khan Prince Sadruddin Aga
Khan Sirajul Alam
Khan Sultan Mohammed
Khondaker Group Captain A.K.
Khulna
Kissinger Henry
See also White House Years
Kohli Vice Admiral
Kolkata
conference
Korean War
KosciuskoMorizet
Kosygin Aleksei Nikolayevich
Krishak Sramik Party
See also Huq Fazlul
Krishnan Vice Admiral N.
Kuznetsov Vasily
Lahore
hijack of Indian plane
Lal Air Chief Marshal P.C.
Lall K.B.
Lennon John
Li Zhisui
London Times The
MacMillan Margaret
Majumdar Inspector General Golak
Malik Dr AM
Malik Yakov
Malraux Andre
Manekshaw Field Marshal Sam
Maniruzzaman Talukder
Mannan Abdul
Mao
Marker Jamsheed
Marshall Jack
Matskevich Vladimir
McMahon Prime Minister William
Meir Golda
Mirza President Iskandar
Moscow
Muhammad Ghulam
Mujib Bahini
Mujibnagar
cabinet
Mukherjee Hiren
Mukti Bahini
arming of
monthly targets
Muslim League
Chhatra League
Lahore resolution
Working Committee
Narain Govind
National Awami Party (NAP)
National Democratic Front
Nayar Kuldip
Nazimuddin Prime Minister Khawaja
Nehru Jawaharlal
New Delhi
New York Times The
New Zealand
Newsweek
Niazi Lt Gen.
Nixon President Richard
NizameIslam
Oehlert Benjamin Jr
Operation Blitz
Osmani Col. (Retd) Muhammad Ataul Goni
Oxfam
Pakistan
war with India
alienation of East Pakistan
and China
and US
appeal to UN
attack on Indian border
Basic Democracies Order
civil services
civilmilitary bureaucracy
constitution
‘constitutional coup’
crackdown
diversionary tactics
feudal social structure
forces
formation of
fragile unity
general elections
Indian strategy on
international pressure
Military Law Authorities (MLA)
military plans for defense of East Pakistan
military rule
National Assembly
national language policy
‘Operation Searchlight’
Tashkent summit
threat to India
Pakistan Constituent Assembly
Pakistan army
armed attacks
communal targeting
surrender in Dhaka
tactics
Pakistan Navy
Pakistan People’s Party (PPP)
Partition of India
Peerzada Lt Gen.
Pegov Nikolai
People
Podgorny President Nikolai
Poland
Pompidou President Georges
Purushottam Counsellor
Qaiyum Qazi Zahurul
Quddus Ruhul
Radio Pakistan
Raghavan Srinath
Rahman Alamgir
Rahman Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur
gratitude to India
release from prison
Rahman Mujibur
Raja Maj. Gen. Khadim Hussain
Ram Jagjivan
Ramesh Jairam
Rashtrabhasa Sangram Parishad (National Language Struggle Committee)
Ray Asoke
Raza Ambassador
Raza Rafi
Razzak Abdur
Reza Mohammad Ali
Rogers William
Rongzhen Nie
Rustomji Director General K.F.
Samant Lt. Cmdr. M.N.
Sarkar Maj. Gen. B.N.
Sattar Abdul
Schanberg Sydney
Scheel Foreign Minister Walter
Schumann Foreign Minister Maurice
Sen Samar
Sen Gupta K.C.
Shah of Iran
Shahabuddin K.M.
Shahi Agha
Shankar Ravi
Sharp Foreign Minister
Shastri Lal Bahadur
Shelvankar K.S.
Siddiqui Kader ‘Tiger’
Singapore
Singh Dinesh
Singh Kewal
Singh Lt Gen. Sagat
Singh jurist Nagendra
Singh Maj. Gen. K.K.
Singh Maj. Gen. Sukhwant
Singh Swaran
Siraj Shahjahan
Sisco Joseph
SixPoint Demand
Spivack Herbert
State Language Working Committee
Stoessel Walter
Subrahmanyam K.
Suhrawardy Huseyn Shaheed
Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra (Radio Free Bangladesh)
Swadhin Bangla Biplobi Parishad
Swaminathan T.
Syria
Taiwan
Task Force
Teliapara
Thant U
Tripura
UN Charter
UN Economic and Social Council
UN General Assembly
UN Security Council
Debate on Bangladesh crisis
call for ceasefire
vote on
resolution
Soviet veto
US mobilization of
UN Sixth (Legal) Committee
USS Enterprise
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR)
arms to Pakistan
assurance of support to India
clash with China
peace treaties
position on Bangladesh
rapport with India
support for Bangladesh
troika
United Front
United Kingdom (UK)
immigrant community
United Nations
African Group
Geneva Convention
Universal Declaration of Human Rights
United Nations Military Observer Group (UNMOGIP)
United States of America
allies in the UN
and China
and India
arms embargo to India
arms to Pakistan
as mediator
call for ceasefire
clandestine support to Pakistan
‘geopolitical revolution’
position on Bangladesh
position (‘tilt’) on Pakistan
provoking Chinese attack on India
State Department
suspension of foreign aid to India
Urdu language
Vietnam
Waldheim Kurt
Washington
White House Years
See also Kissinger Henry
Williams Maurice
Wilson Prime Minister Harold
World Bank
World War II
Munich Agreement
Xu Xiangqian
Ye Jianying
Zabludowicz Shlomo
Zhou Enlai
Zumwalt Admiral Elmo Jr
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First published by Juggernaut Books 2021


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