LASHKAR (2 page)
In Delhi, Afzal left the Outer Ring Road just after the Chirag Dilli flyover and moved into the narrower road leading into the colony. Despite the precise directions it took him almost half an hour to negotiate the heavy Delhi traffic and reach the Aftab Cyber Café located in one of the many nondescript lanes between Malviya Nagar and Khirki Gaon. The cyber café had closed for the night, but when he knocked, a well-built man in his thirties answered the door instantly, almost as though he had been laying in wait. Afzal recognized him from the photograph that he had been sent, but he still said: ‘I am looking for the owner.’
‘You’ve found him.’ The man crooked a finger at himself. He too had recognized Afzal from the picture of his that had been uploaded on a profile in a harmless matchmaking website, used by them to exchange data and messages for this particular operation. With dozens of intelligence agencies keeping a sharp lookout on cyber space even emails were no longer a safe medium. That’s why he had suggested the use of a profile planted on one of the several matchmaking sites on the net. The idea had earned him the approval of Salim Sahib himself. ‘You got my quilts?’ The cyber café owner, who these days went by the name ‘Furkan Sheikh’, asked.
Afzal nodded at the truck parked a little distance away. ‘Come and help me unload them.’
The two men swiftly unloaded the neatly wrapped packages and brought them into the cyber café while the nephew kept an eye on the truck. There were a handful of people around who may have seen the two men working but it is doubtful that any of them would have recalled doing so the next morning.
Driving away from the cyber café, Afzal headed for the nearest telephone booth. ‘Keep an eye on the truck,’ he told his helper as he darted into the tiny wooden booth and dialled the phone number he had been told to memorize.
Afzal did not know it but the number belonged to a Thuraya satellite phone registered to a small export company based in Dubai. The phone, however, was nowhere near Dubai at that time. In fact, almost from the day it had been purchased and activated it had spent most of its time in Pakistan. Right at that moment it lay on a table in a plush office on the outskirts of the Lahore Army cantonment. The phone was answered almost immediately.
Had Afzal ever met the man he had just spoken to he would have been genuinely surprised. A short stocky man with a balding pate and an easy smile he was the prototype of the genial old gent taking his grandchildren to the park. His grandfatherly air had deceived many an adversary when they’d first set eyes on him. But then not many people had. It is said that one of the first things Salim did when he arrived at a position of sufficient power was to have all photographs of himself removed from service records and files. He seldom appeared in any public gathering and never in any place where media of any sort was present. Most people who met him casually did not know who he really was nor what he did for a living. The story goes that his wife (now late and not much lamented) had once asked him about his job. ‘If I told you that, my dear, I’d have to kill you,’ he is said to have replied, only half joking.
Brigadier Murad Salim of the dreaded ISI (Inter Services Intelligence), the rogue Pakistani intelligence service, had been instrumental in implementing countless covert missions all over the world. His crowning achievement had been the Talibanization of Afghanistan and the setting up of a number of training camps all over Pakistan Occupied Kashmir and Afghanistan to feed the global terror factory. He had been responsible for sending more kafirs off to the happy hunting grounds than almost all the Al-Qaida leadership put together.
The Brigadier was one of the few people the General banked on to keep the fires of jihad alive in the minds of people, at home and overseas. This state of unrest gave the Pakistan Armed Forces the perfect reason for retaining a stranglehold over the nation’s economy and its body politic. Indeed, few people realized that the last thing the Pakistani Army feared were the fundamentalist political parties. Headed mostly by zealots who had little idea of governance, these parties had virtually no political, social or economic agenda and scarcely any support at the grassroots level. They were ideally suited to allow the Pakistani Armed Forces to ensure that a perennial state of fear haunted the nation, thus keeping the real political parties in the wilderness, and retaining a firm hold on the reins of power. This was vital because there was just so much at stake. The drugs, weapons and sale of nuclear technology generated millions of dollars. Most of which found its way into the countless numbered accounts of the Generals in power and the handful of Pakistani politicians who toed their line.
Not many people were aware of the huge sacrifices Salim had made for the cause, or his contribution to the jihad espoused by his country. Not that he minded, since he had his own personal agenda: a deep, almost pathological, hatred of everything even remotely Indian. The millions of American dollars he had diligently siphoned out of the narco-terror trail, of which he was an important cog, helped him fund his passion. Salim hated the Americans almost as much as he hated the Indians. Was it his fault they were so recklessly stupid about what they spent their money on? ‘How smart is it to launch missiles worth thousands of dollars to destroy broken-down ruins worth nothing?’ Salim would often ask his aide-de-camp as he railed against the American actions in Afghanistan and Iraq. ‘And can you beat this? They actually call it a smart bomb. The dumb shits!’
As far as Salim was concerned, the jihad began on 16 Dec 1971 when, as the recently commissioned Lieutenant Murad Salim, he had watched the Pakistani Eastern Army Commander, General Niazi, surrender to the Indian Army General in Dhaka. The humiliation of that defeat had seared his soul so deeply that Salim knew he would carry the scars to his grave. ‘No matter what the cost, I will make these bastard Indians pay,’ he swore to himself. He opted for a transfer to the ISI at the first opportunity that came his way; a decision thoroughly vindicated by the passage of time.
By the time a Brigadier’s stars found themselves on his shoulder boards, Salim had acquired an impeccable reputation. As part of the core team of the Pakistan High Command he had discussed the debacles of Operation Gibraltar, which was launched in August 1965 to infiltrate fighters into Jammu and Kashmir and start a rebellion with local support, and Operation Grand Slam, which a panicked Pakistani High Command had unleashed to try and contain the situation. However, both these boomeranged and led to the 1965 Indo–Pak war.
That is when the Pakistani dictator General Zia decided to inflict the festering wound of insurgency on India. Salim was part of the key leadership team that spearheaded the operation. ‘We must ensure that the Valley is always in flames; make it an international example of the despicable kafir violating human rights and international agreements by denying the Kashmiris plebiscite.’
The presentation that General Zia had made to the ISI leadership team on that fateful day in April 1988 was indelibly embedded in Salim’s mind:
1045 hours, 17 April 1988, Central Briefing Room, ISI Headquarters, Islamabad.
The General was a fluent and polished speaker. He chose his words with care and delivered them with conviction:
‘Gentlemen, I have spoken on this subject at length before, so I will skip the details. Due to our preoccupation with Afghanistan, in the service of Islam, I have not been able to put these plans before you earlier. Let there be no mistake however that our aim still remains clear – the liberation of the Kashmir Valley. In the past we had opted for ham-handed military options and subsequently failed in our mission. We will now keep the military option for the last, as a coup de grace, if and when necessary.
‘Our Kashmiri brethren, though with us in their hearts and minds, are simple-minded folk who do not easily take to the type of warfare against foreign domination that say, a Punjabi or an Afghan is naturally inclined towards. The Kashmiri however has a few qualities, which we can exploit. First is his shrewdness and intelligence; second, his power to persevere under pressure; and third, if I may say so, is the fact that he is a master of political intrigue. If we provide him the means by which he can best utilize these qualities he will deliver the goods. We must adopt those methods of combat that the Kashmiri mind can cope with. In other words, a coordinated use of moral and physical means other than military operations, which will destroy the will of the enemy, damage his political capacity and expose him to the world as an oppressor. This aim, gentlemen, shall be achieved in the initial phases.
‘In the first phase, which could last a couple of years, we will assist our Kashmiri brethren to get hold of the power apparatus of the State by political subversion and intrigue. I would like to mention here that as no government can survive in Occupied Kashmir unless it has the tacit approval of Delhi, it would be unrealistic to believe that the Muslim United Front or any other such organization can seize power through democratic or other means. In view of this, power must apparently remain with those whom New Delhi favours. We must therefore ensure that certain favoured politicians from the ruling elite are selected to collaborate with us in subverting all effective organs of the State.’
There was a dramatic pause. The General used it to take a sip of water from the glass on the podium.
‘In brief, our plan for Kashmir, which will be codenamed Operation Topac, will be as follows’ – the General nodded to his aide who flicked on the first slide and projected it on the huge screen mounted across the podium – ‘Phase 1. A low-level insurgency against the regime, so that it is under siege but does not collapse; after all, we don’t want central rule imposed by Delhi at this stage.
‘We will plant our chosen men in all key positions; they will subvert the police force, financial institutions, the communication network and other important organizations.
‘We will whip up anti-India feelings amongst the students and peasants, preferably on religious issues, and enlist their active support for rioting and anti-government demonstrations. Then we will organize and train subversive elements and armed groups that have the capability, initially at least, to deal with paramilitary forces located in the Valley.
‘Without recourse to force we must develop means to stealthily cut off the lines of communication between Jammu and Kashmir and within Kashmir and Ladakh. The road from Srinagar to Kargil over Zojila and the road over Khardungla will receive special attention.
‘In collaboration with Sikh extremists we will create chaos and terror in Jammu and divert attention from the Valley at a critical juncture and discredit the regime even in the Hindu mind.
‘We will establish virtual control in those parts of the Kashmir Valley where the Indian Army is not located or deployed. The southern Kashmir Valley may be one such region.’
There was a slight pause as the projector blanked out and the next set of slides were readied for the screen. The General resumed:
‘Phase 2. Exert maximum pressure on Siachen, Kargil and Rajouri–Poonch sectors to force the Indian Army to deploy reserve formations outside the main Kashmir Valley.
‘Attack and destroy base depots and HQs located in Srinagar, Pattan, Kupwara, Baramulla and Chowkiwala by covert action. Afghan mujahideen, by then settled in Azad Kashmir, will infiltrate into the pockets with a view to extending areas of our influence. This aspect will require detailed and ingenious planning. The fiasco of Operation Gibraltar holds many lessons for us here.
‘Finally, a Special Force under selected retired officers belonging to Azad Kashmir, with the core consisting of Afghans, will be readied to attack and destroy airfields and radio stations, block the Banihal Tunnel and the Kargil–Leh Highway.
‘At a certain stage of the operations, Punjab and adjacent areas of Jammu and Kashmir will be put under maximum pressure internally by our offensive posture.’
As the third set of slides came up on the projector the General triumphantly concluded his presentation: ‘Phase 3: Detailed plans for the liberation of the Kashmir Valley and the establishment of an independent Islamic State.’
The aide turned off the projector and the General walked briskly across to the centre of the room to look his audience squarely in the eye. ‘Please remember, we do not have much time. Maximum pressure must be exerted before the general elections in India and before the Indian Army reserves, which are still bogged down in Sri Lanka, become available. By the grace of Allah, we have managed to accumulate large stocks of modern arms and ammunition from the US consignments intended for the Afghan mujahideen. This will help our Kashmiri brethren achieve their goals. Even if we create a kind of Azad Kashmir in some remote parts of Occupied Kashmir as a beginning, the next step may not be as difficult as it appears today.’
The General paused, trying to gauge the effect of his words on those around him. When he resumed, it was with a note of caution: ‘On the other hand, it should also be noted that a part of the Indian Army, particularly the Infantry, will be well trained by now, especially after their experience in north-eastern India and more recently in Sri Lanka. But the situation in Kashmir will be somewhat different; more like the Intifada of Palestinians in towns, and on the pattern of mujahideen in the countryside to attack hard targets. A period of chaos in the state is essential in the circumstances.
‘And what about our Chinese friends? Our Chinese friends will help us by ensuring that the Indian forces deployed against them are not moved out; if at all, this will be required only in the third or final stage of our operations. Of course, if we are in serious trouble, the Chinese and our other powerful friends will come to our rescue; they will ensure that even if we do not win – we don’t lose.
‘But, remember, it will be disastrous to believe that we can take on India in a straight contest. We must be careful to maintain a low military profile so that the Indians do not find an excuse to pre-empt us, by attacking at a time and at a point of their own choosing, at least before Phase I and 2 of the operation are over. I need not emphasize any further that a deliberate and objective assessment of the situation must be ensured at each stage, otherwise a stalemate will follow that will not be good for Pakistan.’