The
birth centenary of Field Marshal SHFJ Manekshaw, who successfully led
Indian troops in the battle for Bangladesh, serves as an occasion to
honour the life of this great soldier, sadly ignored by the country
Tomorrow,
Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw would have been 100 years
‘young’, as he would have said. A living legend and a folk hero, Sam,
from almost becoming a gynaecologist, rose to being India’s first Field
Marshal who bequeathed on his constantly conquered country, a stunning
military victory, the first in a thousand years, and helped give birth
to a new nation: Bangladesh.
In his most recent book, India At Risk: Mistakes, Misconceptions and Misadventures of Security Policy,
Mr Jaswant Singh describes this epic event as the revenge of geography
over history. Sam’s greatest passion was his beloved Gorkhas, the
doughty khukri-wielding fighters who gave him his name. Visiting a
Gorkha battalion, he asked a bewildered johnny: “What’s my name”? “Sum
Bahadur”, said the Gorkha, confused, which was his name. “But
that’s my name”, said Sam, and so he was christened Sam Bahadur for the
rest of his life. Till his dying day, he was surrounded by serving and
retired Gorkhas. “They’re my life, in a way. It’s what Harka Bahadur
made me”, he would say.
At
his 90th birthday, in Delhi’s Battle Honours Mess in 2003, mobbed by
his admirers and well-wishers, the slightly hunched Sam confessed he had
misused the khukri, the legendary Gorkha knife reserved for
close quarter battle, to cut the birthday cake. When asked what his
life’s biggest achievement was, he said: “I never punished anyone”.
Blowing out 90 candles with the help of one Gorkha piper, Sam exulted:
“Like everything else in my life, I was born
the wrong way around. My father, a gynaecologist, took 40 minutes to
straighten me out”.
Sam
was a showman par excellence, orchestrating events for, what in today’s
parlance, would be called strategic signalling. During the 1971 war, he
would make it a point to appear in the newly appointed bar in the
Oberoi Hotel in the capital every evening sipping his favourite Red
Label, ensuring the media took note that he was on top of the campaigns
both in the east and the west. Later, he would rush back to the War Room
where in a corner a camp-cot was kept for him. After independence, Sam
never belonged to any regiment, though he was commissioned into the 2nd
Royal Scots and later joined the famous 4/12 Frontier Force
Regiment, with whom during the disastrous battle for Sittang Bridge, he
won an instant Military Cross. Although he was posted to 3/5 Gorkha
Rifles (Frontier Force), he never got to command a battalion as then
Army chief General PN Thapar wanted him in the Military Operations
Directorate.
Sam’s
flamboyance and sartorial elegance never escaped notice and mixed
brilliantly with his penetrating style of command. Replacing Lieutenant
General BM Kaul after the Himalayan debacle in 1962 and on reaching 4
Corps, Sam announced: “Gentlemen, I have arrived. There will be no more
withdrawals”. “Lucky for me”, he said later, “the Chinese declared a
unilateral withdrawal”. A sense of humour laced the extraordinary
confidence he exuded in public life whether dealing with Prime Minister
Indira Gandhi who became Durga Mata after the war, or cheering Harka
Bahadur in the boxing ring. “Whoever says he knows no fear is either
lying or a Gorkha” was his favourite quip. With pithy words like these
Sam would disarm all manner of people.
Sam’s
brush with politicians was not easy, though as he learnt early in life,
after the hounding he faced from Defence Minister Krishna Menon, that
they were a dangerous species. But for the Chinese and Lieutenant
General Daulet Singh who was made to investigate Sam’s alleged
misdemeanours as Commandant Defence Services Staff College Nilgiris, he
would have been sacked. Another war era Defence
Minister Jagjivan Ram, who would call him “Saam”, was not enamoured of
him either, given his straight talk. Still in early 1972, Indira Gandhi
sounded Jagjivan Ram on appointing Sam the Chief of Defence Staff, an
elevation he richly deserved. But the combined ministerial and
bureaucratic fears torpedoed the idea, it would seem for good, as the
appointment remains untouchable to date. Except VC Shukla, who became a
close friend, most Ministers of the Indira Gandhi Cabinet were
suspicious of Sam and kept him at a distance. When he finally retired,
the Ministry of Defence ensured there was no organised farewell at New
Delhi Railway Station as his special train chugged off to Coimbatore en routeCoonoor
in the Nilgiris. There, with his wife Silloo, he joined a dozen
Gorkhas, two dogs, Piffer and Ceasar, and Preeti the cow, at Stavka,
their new home. Tending to roses, buying vegetables and playing bridge
at the Coonoor Club and doing his own
typing and answering mail, kept him busy.
The
Government fixed his pension at a measly Rs 1,200 plus a Rs 400
allowance for Field Marshal. When terminally ill in Wellington Hospital
in 2008, Defence Secretary Shekhar Dutt carried arrears of his revised
pension amounting to one crore rupees. Typically, Sam looked at the
cheque and told Mr Dutt: “I hope the cheque won’t bounce”.
Management
manuals are now discovering many of the attributes of leadership that
came to Sam naturally.
He had a healthy contempt for bureaucratic authority and detested
fawning officers. As many as 14 companies took him on their board,
mostly as chairman. Surprisingly Sam’s adversaries grew from within,
attempting to undermine his great leadership style and strategic acumen,
especially during the war for Bangladesh. No matter what they say, the
1971 war has just one stamp of victory —and that belongs to Sam
Manekshaw.
The
Government made no amends for his farewell during his funeral. Rather,
it maintained equal disrespect against the highest military traditions.
He was laid to rest at the Parsi Zoroastrian cemetery in Oottacamund,
alongside Silloo, and four years later, a gravestone that said, “Good
Thought, Good
Words, Good Deeds” was laid, this time in the presence of Defence
Minister AK Antony and with appropriate protocol.
Apparently
the Army has been instructed to commemorate Sam’s centenary, low key.
On April 3, Chief of Army Staff General Bikram Singh will unveil a
life-size statue of Sam Bahadur, followed by the release of a book
written by Brigadier Behram Panthaki, who was Sam’s ADC, and his wife
Zenobia.
The
Parsi Anjuman of Delhi is hosting a big event to honour Sam. It’s
time India shed its blinkers and recognised Sam’s contribution to the
country. The next Government should honour the greatest soldier of our
times by posthumously awarding Sam Manekshaw the Bharat Ratna.
able stand on surrogacy become Prime Minister!!the whole of India needs him and even though i have cases lined up on voting day i will get up earlier than usual at 5 am and go and vote first and then go and work!!
