Open Secrets: The Explosive Memoirs of an Indian Intelligence Officer (14 page)

This small gesture won a reprieve for Sunanda and me. From the confines of Imphal jail he smuggled out a letter, which advised me to meet two important individuals of the RGM and PMM. They, he said, would cooperate with me and remove all possible misgivings. For reasons of security and propriety I don’t want to name those two individuals, who later climbed to high political positions. They were indeed helpful. The Meitei insurgent outfit did not target Sunanda and me and we continued to have access to the Meitei society.

That night I skipped my birthday party and spent three hours in drafting a cipher to Delhi and Kohima about my meeting with the Chief Commissioner and the neutralisation of a top asset of the IB by Manipur police and compromise of one of the IB officers. They advised me to be tactful. I received the benign advices gracefully but failed to understand how I could be tactful with a crude police officer.

Perfection in intelligence tradecraft is a chimera. Even the slyest spymaster often leaves behind unrefined fissures that can be exploited by his adversaries. There is no near perfect mechanism for agent meeting. Such meetings often take place between the agent and his handling officer. Very often a cut out is used for establishing physical contact with the agent. Meetings are conditioned by the geographical features, population complex, and availability of secured meeting places. I took adequate measures to ensure safety of my agent meetings and that of my officers.

I did not develop personal hostility towards Baleswar Prasad, who, I was later informed by reliable friends, was a close relative of K. N. Prasad. Sunanda advised me to eat the fire and adopt a conciliatory approach. Her views were simple. I could not afford a fight with a cruel crock while sharing the waters with him.

I went by her advice and called D. G. Bhave, the Chief Secretary, S.C.Vaish and K.S.Baidwan, an IAS officer and my service contemporary. Bhave guzzled a couple of bottles of beer and finally opined that too smart a central intelligence officer was unsuitable for too dumb an Inspector General of Police and too bossy a Chief Commissioner.

“What is your advice? Don’t you think the central IB and the state police can’t afford to cross swords?”

“I agree,” Bhave opined after emptying his fifth bottle of beer, “In government service a junior cannot afford to be smarter than his senior. Place your machinery at the disposal of Madan Gopal.”

Vaish winked at me and whispered that the beer inside Bhave’s stomach had the better of his judgement. Baidwan too chipped in and acclaimed Bhave’s decision.

“Come to my office tomorrow,” Bhave pronounced, “I’ll draw up a proposal for better coordination between the IB and the state police.”

I did not follow up his advice, because I knew he would either forget the evening’s proceedings or piss it out at some point of his numerous visits to the loo.

Manipur police was not hostile to me. T.J.Quinn, an Anglo-Indian police officer from Madhya Pradesh, balanced out the crafty personality of Madan Gopal. Our operational vibes in the hill districts of Manipur were excellent and we forded many a sticky situation together. His prescription was nothing extraordinary. He just wanted me to share the operational intelligence with him, followed by a written communication to the IGP and the Chief Commissioner. It worked perfectly. Madan Gopal hardly took interest in hill insurgency. He was busy in raising tantrums that IB did not cooperate with him.

*

I did not face any hostility from the political breed. Rather they were eager to keep the ‘eyes and ears of the Centre’ i.e. me in good humour.

The situation was vastly different way back in 1968-69. The politicians and the bureaucrats hadn’t yet found the open sesame mantra into the national treasury. Most of them depended on the lowly SIB representatives for monetary help, tactical support and for building bridges with the political bosses and the top bureaucrats in Delhi. The situation has now reversed. The local political bosses like their counterparts in Delhi and elsewhere in India, have found the open sesame keys and are in a position to shame some of the millionaire barons of industry. Now, I understand, they are not required to pamper the local SIB station chief. They can shop around in Delhi, right from the top political to the chick bureaucratic shopping mall and spend as much as they like. They arrive in Delhi with suitcases and go back with political support and plan and non-plan budgetary grants and aids. Most of these allocations, even a blind person can perceive, travel straight to the private coffers of the adventurers and fortune hunters. That’s how the development activities are implemented in India to remove poverty and to bring the people up to civilised standard of living!

Whatever it is, our new strategy of penetrating the state administration worked fine. We started inviting almost all the key officials and selected politicians over for drinks and dinner. It helped us in winning over a large number of friends and sympathisers that counterbalanced the weighty manoeuvres of the IGP. Picking up from there I succeeded in rebuilding assets in and around the police HQ and several key departments of the government of Manipur. Thereafter, I did not starve for advance warning from my ‘friends’ in the administration and the police force. The expenses were borne from the secret service funds of the IB. The spirit and liquor came cheap from the Army canteens and way back in Manipur of 1968-69 things were dirt-cheap.

Though shameful, I must admit that perforce I had to create human assets inside Manipur administration with two objectives: to warn me about the motives of the IGP and to gather information about linkages between some government officers and the hill and valley insurgents. The gamble paid off handsomely.

I strongly believe that generation of some such assets even in the context of present day security operations is absolutely necessary, especially in the age of coalition and quick changing governments. The IB should not stop its hunt for the mafia in the back alleys of Mumbai and Delhi, but also inside the political infrastructure just next to the chairs of the President and the Prime Minister. Many such mafia turned political operators like to operate from under the shadow of the lamp itself. Most of them and their bureaucratic aides prefer to operate under the protection of the constitutional system and legal framework.

This is, however, a sad commentary on the state of cooperation and coordination between the state and the central intelligence agencies. We were deprived of the opportunity of forming a common axis. The system continues to suffer from such defects in spite of formation of the National Security Council and multi-agency intelligence sharing efforts.

In fact, the legal brains, bureaucratic pundits and the saner political elements should initiate process of achieving better coordination between the Central>Central and Central>State intelligence organisations. Most of the Intelligence and Security organisations, including those of the Armed Forces work in isolation and the intelligence fraternity guards their secrets like a
baniya
(trader) guards his black assets. The present exchange and coordination mechanism is eyewash. The issue can only be resolved through proper legislation by the Parliament making these organisations accountable to the nation and its people. Otherwise we have to face many Purulias, Kargils and Hill insurgencies. This cannot be achieved by establishing Committees.

*

The corrupt and scared minds often imagine enemies knocking their souls. Such fears arise out of guilt consciousness. They often generate insurmountable difficulties for perceived enemies if they happen to hold positions of power. My tango with the Territorial government did not end with the RGM episode. The atmosphere of confrontation continued to dog me. Such ghost-enemy seekers generated the heat over two major incidents.

The Village Volunteer Force (VVF), a kind of militia raised by the IB and the Special Security Bureau (SSB), was bank rolled from the secret service fund of the Intelligence Bureau. The Chief Commissioner (CC) controlled the purse and defrayed all expenses through the skeletal administration that functioned under his strict personal control. I received a monthly cheque from the IB that I encashed and handed over the money to the CC. He maintained the account and furnished a simple utilisation certificate that I forwarded to the IB headquarter.

A few nasty incidents of overrunning of the VVF camps by the Naga rebels in the districts of Ukhrul, Tamenglong and Mao and desertion of some VVF volunteers raised an alarm. I was directed by Delhi to enquire into the matter independently and submit a report directly to the Joint Director X.

My enquiry took me and Sunanda to the interiors of the insurgency infested Naga areas of Manipur. I was immensely helped by Rishang Keishing (former Chief Minister), K.Envy, Peter Tangkhul, Asoli Mao, K.Kakuthon, and Mono Moyal, the leading figures of the Naga community. We generally camped in the village schools and offered crates of rum to the ‘
khullakpas
’ (village chiefs), contributed financial assistance to the village church and often joined the dance parties and other festivities. This helped us developing rapport with the villagers and creating strings of informers.

The village chief of Soraphung in Ukhrul showered a rare honour on Sunanda and me. He adopted us as his son and daughter-in-law. He wrapped us with the traditional Naga shawls and allowed us to sip
madhu
(rice beer) from the
khullakpa’s
cups, curved out of juniper wood. Sunanda was offered the honour of cutting the rice cake cooked inside a fat bamboo stem. It tasted strange but we succeeded in controlling our facial muscles and managed to hang smiles on.

Over a period of month I gathered a bagful of data of mismanagement by the VVF officials. My report inexorably brought out the fact that there existed a sinister nexus between the Chief Commissioner and R.K. Mohanty, the IB officer on deputation to the VVF. Between them they were draining the VVF largesse deep down to their private coffers.

On my recommendation Delhi created a post of Security Commissioner who was supposed to look after the VVF matters and all other security operations. Mr. M. Ramunny, a former officer of the Royal Air Force, and an inducted officer to the IAS had joined the government of Manipur as the first Security Commissioner. Ramunny was a straightforward and no-nonsense army man. He shared with me plenty of concrete evidences of misdeeds and misappropriation of the secret service fund by the VVF authorities.

My reports to Delhi did not take time to reach the Chief Commissioner. He brought a counter charge against me that I had interfered with the border pillars between India and Burma in Churachandpur and Moreh sectors. The charges were vague and undefined.

The villagers inhabiting the territory on either side of the international border survived on ‘
jhoom
’ (shifting) cultivation. They burnt portions of the forests and sowed rice, millet and maize. The village chiefs often selected the ‘
jhoom
’ spots behind the back of the district administration. In the process they tampered with the border pillars and pushed those back and forth to suit their yearly cultivation cycle. The SIB had taken cognisance of these reports and had kept Delhi informed. The Chief Commissioner too was kept into the picture.

But he did not mind stabbing me from the back.

I had negotiated the surrender of the entire command and personnel of the 9th and 10th battalions of the underground Naga Army, which operated in the districts of Ukhrul, Tengnoupal and parts of Churachandpur. The negotiations were done under difficult circumstances with help of a Naga lady who had fallen in love with one of my constables. She happened to be the sister of one of the commanders of the outlawed Naga army battalion. Sunanda helped me a lot in cultivating that lady. Saimi (not real name) had free access to our home and Sunanda did not hesitate to make her comfortable in our drawing and dining room.

After prolonged correspondence Delhi gave clearance to conclude the operation and make the Naga army units to surrender to the Chief Commissioner. I was in favour of their surrender to the GOC 8 Mountain Division located at Zakahma. General Zorawar Bakshi was sounded and he welcomed the idea. But Delhi was adamant on the surrender to be taken by the Chief Commissioner. I ritually reported to the local boss and informed him that the surrender ceremony would be organised on 14th August, a day before the Independence Day celebrations at Chapkikarong, a foothills village.

I was woken up from sleep on the night of August 13 by the constable who married Saimi. He had a strange story to tell. A large contingent of the VVF and Manipur Rifles had surrounded the camping ground of the 9th and 10th battalions of the Naga Army and took them by surprise. They arrested the commanding officers and a few soldiers along with their armoury. The armoury inventory was impressive. It consisted of 5 Light machine Guns, 6 rocket launchers, 20 carbines and 25 assorted rifles. Could I help, he asked? I could not help as Delhi turned a deaf ear to my pleadings to intervene and put appropriate words to the Chief Commissioner.

Sunanda and I were shocked by the turn of events. For the first time I found her swinging between faith and fate. She even suggested that I should seek reversion to my state cadre, West Bengal. With little more than four years service behind me I too felt confused. To fight against a Marxist minister was an act of tactless impudence. To face Prasad was simply an act of hara-kiri. His scimitars were reputedly sharper than normal departmental disciplinary action and he happened to be a relative of the Chief Commissioner.

I had no doubt in the professional expertise of Prasad. I only hoped that his stay with the CC would not vitiate his judgement. I believe he had a series of meetings with the IGP, the Chief Secretary and a few other officials. The Chief Minister of the Union Territory of Manipur did not leave the opportunity to call on the direct representative of Delhi.