Open Secrets: The Explosive Memoirs of an Indian Intelligence Officer (75 page)

I may have different things to say about Ambani’s clever manipulation of the Indian system and his questionable ways in promoting his business. He did not do anything new. He simply took advantage of the hunger of the politicians and bureaucrats to promote his business and industry by hoodwinking the system. The law of the country has not been able to catch up with him. Why should I wreck my head over an issue that is beyond my comprehension?

I took advantage of Dhirubhai’s willingness to help the country out. I did have no complaint about this giant entrepreneur as far as his love of the country was concerned. He and his entire family: Kokila Ben, Mukesh, Anil, Neeta and Tina happened to accept me as a member of the family. The family had, on a couple of occasions, also accepted Sunanda and my two sons. We shared their home hospitality (non-transactional). I was wonderstruck by the simplicity of Kokila Ben and the tour she gave me of the entire residential complex, her special room stuffed with Ganesha images and the rooftop Champaka tree. Our friendship lasted until I cooled off after Sunanda was diagnosed suffering from invasive carcinoma and the children took to the wider world to discover themselves. I had no material favour to ask from the bountiful billionaire.

Dhirubhai did not only arrange my meetings with the key characters in Bombay and Ahmedabad, he also ferreted out, through his own channel certain sensitive information from Dubai. I had kept the Director about my linkages with Dhirubhai and very valuable contributions made by him.

I had very little material resource to return the favours of Dhirubhai. I did not belong to any moneymaking wing of the government. However, on the request of Kokila Ben I inspected the entire Sea Wind complex and suggested ways and means to improve its physical security and personal security of her family members. In return she and her two daughter-in-laws sat down on the breakfast table and shared their morning meal with me. Kokila Ben personally served a specially prepared dish. With all the wealth around her she had not changed a wee bit from the days she spent in a chwal (middle class tenement). That’s what had charmed me more. Dhirubhai is no more. But his voluntary services at a critical point had helped the country to augment its security by a few notches.

*

As usual layers of gun wielding private security personnel surrounded the Shiv Sena supremo’s home. Minus his standard behavioural peculiarities he received me cordially and over 4 sessions introduced me to certain members of XXX Rajan and YYY Gawli gang. These characters drove me down to the deeper niches of Bombay underworld and I bumped against the names of Salim Kutta, Dadabhai Abdul Gaffar Parkar, Bhai Thakur, Mohammad Dossa, Pappu Kalani and Javed Chikna. From them I came to know about deputation of about 12 Muslim youths to Pakistan for training by the ISI camps in Pakistan and Afghanistan and safe arrival of the Memon family at ZZZ, in Pakistan around March 17, 1993.

One of them offered me a ride to a place near Shekadi to have firsthand view of the terrain. But I declined as the ambience temperature was very high and it was not safe to be seen with a member of the Bombay underworld. However, I enjoyed my brief encounters with the dreaded characters of Bombay who are so frequently portrayed in most exaggerated manner in Bollywood films. Most of them are as dangerous and honourable people as some of the Indian system managers, who manage to twist the voting process to climb the top slots of the nation.

I was impressed by two aspects of the character of Bal Thackrey: His firm commitment to narrow Maharashtrian cause, Hindu nationalism and his sway over sizeable sections of the underworld and organised groups of criminals. However, I did not appreciate the tinges of intolerance in him. But he is made like that and one cannot ask a cheetah to change its spots. A meticulous study of Balasaheb may help the contemporary social scientists to trace the genesis of politician-criminal nexus in Indian politics. One need not essentially run after the fodder thieves and briefcase grabbers.

Chhabil Das Mehta, the aged Congress leader and the Chief Minister was particularly helpful in providing me access to a couple of Muslim roughnecks from the walled city of Ahmedabad. These characters in turn helped me to get a fascinating run down on the illegal dhow traffic between Gujarat and minor and unspecified ports in Pakistani Sind. One of them drove me down to Jam Salaya and exposed me to the real life dhow traffic between India, Pakistan and the Gulf. He was the person to indicate the fact of landing of explosives and weapons somewhere near Jam Salaya around the time Dawood Ibrahim and the ISI delivered their deadly consignments at Shekadi.

Keshu Bhai Patel had come down to the guesthouse, where I was holed up in my private capacity and exchanged views on the fundamentalist livewires operating from behind the walls of the old city of Ahmedabad and their linkages with fishing community along the coastal region, from Kutch to Saurashtra. He introduced me to XXX Athwale, the uncrowned king of the fishing communities in the coastal region of Gujarat and Maharashtra. I was referred to certain key figures amongst the fishing community, mostly Hindus, who were eager to help in curbing the questionable activities of the smugglers, human traffickers and Muslim fundamentalists.

In Gujarat I came to realise that the underworld had started splitting on communal lines. The great divide that was brought about by the persistent efforts of Pakistan and the unfortunate incident at Ayodhya had started blurring the professional and ethical bonds (whatever it is) amongst the underworld. Criminality, for a short while, had ceased to be the red blood corpuscles of the underworld.

I continued to work on this front until the government of India constituted a Special Task Force comprising the IB, CBI, R&AW and the State police to investigate into the blast incidents. One of my worthy colleagues was deputed to the team. I was again cooped up in my love affairs with the PCIU.

*

My forays into the Bombay serial bomb blast and subsequent events brought out another naked truth: the prime intelligence agencies of the country did not have any idea whatsoever about the coastline of India-from Gujarat to West Bengal, which enjoined the key security regions in Pakistan, The Maldives, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. The coastline was open to threats from the Arabian Sea, The Indian Ocean to the Bay of Bengal.

I took upon myself, in consultation with the Director, the self-imposed task to start a systematic study of the major and minor ports along the entire coastline, recorded and unrecorded landing sites, creeks and inlets. Simultaneous study of the population and political complexities were taken up. Several smuggling cartels and criminal gangs were identified and modus operandi of transportation mechanism between the coastal areas and hinterland niches of the smugglers, hawala operators and the underworld gangs were charted out. My worthy colleague V. K. Joshi helped me immensely in this maiden venture.

There was initial resistance from the IB units in the coastal States. In most cases they did not have the work force. More importantly they had no training in generating maritime intelligence that affected the shallow waters and connected the external inimical forces with the internal saboteurs. I had devised a preliminary training manual for the IB officers on coastal security. I hope this has been improved upon and coastal security has also been added to the grains of daily salt of the IB.

I must admit that the IB officers in different units reacted promptly and had started flooding the PCIU with basic materials that was used to build up a somewhat sensible structure for generating coastal intelligence. By end 1993 the State governments had in position some rudimentary shallow water patrol system, though it was pitiably inadequate. The Coast Guard too had diverted some attention to the shallow waters for a while. But the police efforts more often ended in futile chase as the slow moving dhows were no match for GPS and Satellite communication fitted fast boats used by the smugglers. Most of the times the police used rented dhows belonging to fishing magnets. The intricate linkages between the fishing-boat operators and the smugglers often defeated the secrecy part of police operations.

Land based coastal policing too proved to be futile as the police forces were more committed to normal and abnormal policing duties elsewhere inland. I understand that the system has not been properly integrated with the policing system of the concerned states. In certain sectors the Border Security Force attended the job and in most of the sectors the job was left to the violators, the seas and the God, precisely in that order.

In fact, there is a case for creation of a central coastal security force, appropriately equipped with modern boats and communication and surveillance equipments. It should be delinked from the BSF, Coast Guard and state police. It may be mandated to have regular liaison with the Coast Guard and other land based enforcement units. There is an urgent requirement of involving the State police machineries and upgrading their capability to guard the vulnerable pockets along their respective coastlines. I hope the security planners will pay adequate attention to this requirement before another catastrophe hits the nation.

I have reasons to believe that the coastal intelligence sub-unit of the IB had lapsed into disuse and oblivion after I left the agency. Other priorities forced the IB to return to its conventional tunnels and fire fighting business in Punjab, Kashmir and elsewhere in the country. They fancied that after the Bombay serial blast Pakistan and other unfriendly forces had lost the appetite for violating India’s security from the coastal regions. That is the limit of memory bank of a national intelligence agency!

THE RIDER OF DREAM

I have great faith in fools; self-confidence, my friends call it.

Edgar Allan Poe

A comet orbits around the Sun by borrowing forces from the Sun itself and Big-Bang gravitational imperatives. If a comet had human consciousness it would have dreaded the journey, because the merciless life-giver Sun chips away millions of tonnes of the comet’s particles. It is often hurtled out of the gravitational orbit and made to plunge on the nearest planet having greater gravitational pull.

I think the same was happening to me. My dream journey through the PCIU had started chipping away my sensibilities. I had started suffering from a notion that intellect and hard work were good enough to steady me on the back of the tiger called, the Establishment. It was a dream journey of a fool, say of an over confident person, who did not know the exact source of his gravitational energy.

As 1993 started panting near the finishing line with loads of famous and infamous events on its back I too got embroiled in certain affairs, which did not strictly relate to my charter of duty.

V. G. Vaidya was about to retire. His leadership had brought sanity and openness back to the IB and the coterie system that came to haunt the IB with M. K. Narayanan had receded considerably. Sheer grit and professionalism had added a few layer of respectability to the organisation. Efficiency was the only yardstick that Vaidya used to evaluate an officer. It was refreshingly different from the Rajiv Gandhi-style coterie rule.

The Intelligence Bureau is a pyramidal agency. The top alone decides the policy matters, not very often in consultation with his immediate deputies. The routine work was not affected by the change of leadership. But operational policies, special projects and sensitive operations heavily leaned on the personal proclivities of the top man. Only a few adventurous officers dared to take initiative in conceiving pro-active operational projects and pursue the same with conviction and faith. I was one of those fools.

The impending change in leadership had, therefore, brought several intelligence operations to standstill. The unit conceived by me to cover ‘Muslim Militancy’ was taken away on the pretext that I was heavily preoccupied with my counterintelligence duties. No doubt a competent officer took over the responsibilities, but the manner in which an old associate staged the coup behind my back left a bitter taste. There was simply no consultation and formulation of operational policies. The officer who was entrusted with the job had very little idea about Islam and the Islamists. I was given to understand that some key figures in the IB considered me suffering from ISI and Muslim paranoia. I believe a few dynamic colleagues have now revamped this delicate front of intelligence generation activity and they have achieved some spectacular success in thwarting the forward thrust of the Inter Services Intelligence.

*

I had, in the process of discharging my duties had obliged a number of senior bureaucrats, just for the fun of helping people when I was capable of helping. One of them was Zaffar Saifullah, an IAS officer of Karnataka cadre, much senior to me. Saifullah and I had drifted together back in the days of Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi. He had allegedly crossed certain lines drawn by service codes and proprieties and was embroiled in CBI cases. At least two cases against him were fabricated by an important Pakhtoon politician close to the family of Indira Gandhi, on matters very personal to their lives. I had succeeded in explaining the circumstances to the Director CBI and two important functionaries in the PMO. They agreed with me that the officer should not be penalised simply because he wanted to marry a woman working in the office of the person close to Indira’s family. After some efforts he was taken out of the hook and later I introduced him to certain friends who helped him in straightening his service records and climbing to the topmost slot of Indian bureaucracy. Our friendship, therefore, was based on mutual trust and understanding, though I was placed several layers below him in the hierarchy.

At that point of critical situation in the IB Zaffar Saifullah consulted me to suggest a name for Vaidya’s replacement. He was the topmost bureaucrat and he had no reason to consult me. Yet he did, because he believed that I would not misguide him.

Saifullah had asked me a very difficult question. The line up of succession inside the organisation was very delicately poised. Next in seniority was S. D. Trivedi, an officer of 1960 seniority. An old IB bird he hadn’t earned universal admiration either for his professional competence and personal relationship with the corps of officers in the agency. He was described by most as a ‘
bandobast
’ man (fixer/arranger) with little expertise on operational and analytical intelligence. They alleged that in the recent past he did not anoint himself with glorious social behaviour. I saw no reason to disagree with my colleagues.

I was informed that Trivedi’s rejection for the top post was caused by two factors: Rao’s reservation caused by certain enquiries conducted by the former against him under instruction from late V. S. Tripathy and his alleged involvement in serious auto-accident when he was travelling in his official car with a female Congress worker from Uttar Pradesh.

As it might be the next choice was D. C. Pathak junior to Trivedi in the same batch. Pathak was a non-controversial officer with very little achievement in operational intelligence and analytical accomplishment. He was a directionless and to some extent a disoriented person. He lacked the personality to lead a vast force of seasoned sleuths and to interface competently with the higher echelon of the bureaucracy and the politicians. But he was not the one who was capable of harming the agency through any positive action. He had the potential to do so by his non-performance. That was considered a lesser danger.

I had sounded some of my colleagues on the issue of succession. Barring a minor string of ‘managerial section’ in the IB and the upper caste Uttar Pradesh lobby, the senior corps of officers were averse to the idea of Trivedi succeeding Vaidya. They simply did not want Uttar Pradesh Brahmin feudalism to take over the otherwise reputed agency. They were also not sure if Pathak would be able to lead the organisation at a critical point of time. However, the majority of the corps of senior officers preferred Pathak to Trivedi. The underlying consideration was that a ‘raw material’ like Pathak could be moulded and supported with the best possible assistance to lead the organisation. None of them wanted an outsider as the DIB, as some years later Arun Bhagat, a pure and simple police officer, had intruded into the agency for a while.

I shared this analysis and views with Zaffar Saifullah.

But another problem haunted the top bureaucrat. Pathak was an unknown commodity. He was neither known to the politicians nor to the senior bureaucrats. He was, in reality, a silent backroom officer. He personally did not believe that he would ever make the top grade.

I physically escorted Pathak to Saifullah. They met for the first time and discussed several facets of management of the Intelligence Bureau. Zaffar Saifullah was not happy with the choice, but he felt that the new head could rise up to the expectations. He had also separately interviewed S. D. Trivedi and was reportedly disillusioned with his record of accomplishment. I have no direct knowledge. It’s Saifullah who sold D. C. Pathak to his colleagues in the bureaucracy and to the Home Minister and the Prime Minister.

A new Director IB was thus born.

I did not feel comfortable either. Pathak was too demagogic to give direction to delicate intelligence operations and lead the organisation with unchallenged phalanx of support behind him. I had a nagging feeling that a weak link was placed in position at a very critical moment. I only hoped something better would come out of it. We had a very limited choice before us.

To outsiders the Intelligence Bureau might appear as a monolith. It is not. Like most other spy agencies all over the world the IB too is faction ridden. I had spent over 29 years in the organisation to understand and live with the factious love-hate game. The only difference with me was that I did not belong to any gang. I was born a free bird and my passage through the agency was marked by my individual idiosyncrasies and a sense on mission for the job I happened to handle from time to time. I did not care any more about individuals and groups. I was fond of riding dream and tiger, though I was not sure of the mechanism of touching the dream and alighting from the tiger. This strength and weakness did not arise out my connectivity to political and bureaucratic friends. It came from within. I had learnt to live for conviction and not for convenience. Such blasphemous work-attitude normally procreated conflict situation. From day one I had mounted that tiger and it was not possible to dismount without being scratched.

*

After V. G. Vaidya’s departure the organisation was pushed back to inconsequential position. The rating of the organisation was not only done on the basis of quality of intelligence it produced, but also by the visible proximity of the Director with the fellow top bureaucrats and the Home Minister and the Prime Minister. The Intelligence Bureau is an appended department of the Home Ministry and the consumers expect personal offerings from the Director, in addition to the intelligence catered.

D. C. Pathak was handicapped by his unfamiliarity with the powerful secretaries to the government of India, the Defence Services Chiefs and the key politicians. The absence of his frequent presence in the durbars of the HM and the PM sent wrong signals to the power-meter-readers in Delhi. Moreover, Pathak had failed to click with the Director CBI, Vijaya Rama Rao and the chief of the Research and Analysis Wing of the Cabinet Secretariat, Ranjan Roy. In fact, he was not even in speaking terms with the CBI chief, who happened to hail from the home state of the Prime Minister and was perceived to be close to him. Plainly speaking the PM required the services of a committed CBI chief, as he was getting embroiled in one scandal after another.

V. Rama Rao was a fine human being and an excellent officer. But like most heads of the CBI he had to submit to the wishes of the PM and HM. No CBI Director has yet been able to function independently. This organisation has been used for political ends in as much as the IB has been used. Recent fabrication of certain rules under instruction of the apex court has presumably put the CBI under scanner of the Vigilance Commission. I would rather not like to comment on this aspect as the CBI continues to function under directives of the political masters. The hallowed organisation enjoys the image of an impartial investigating body and suffers from the stigma of being manipulated by the political masters.

So, there was nothing special in V. Rama Rao collaborating with another Andhra Gadu, son of the soil of Andhra, Prime Minister Narasimha Rao.
Yeh sab chalta hai
, (things happen like that), which was the street slogan, and most of us went by that.

People around the PM knew that the accidentally installed top politician was beleaguered by one scandal after another and he was more intolerant than his predecessors. God men and wheeler-dealers unduly influenced him. To a PM like him the Director CBI was more valuable an asset than the chiefs of the IB and the R&AW. Pathak had not succeeded in reading the basic requirement of the PM.

*

My initial brush with the bigwigs of the PMO started with an insignificant professional incident. My surveillance unit had chanced to pick up the trail of a Pakistani journalist who visited Delhi frequently. On a couple of occasions he was ‘housed’ at the residence of an aide to the Prime Minister, ZZZ Bakshi. Satish Sharma, a supposed Rajiv Gandhi loyalist, had planted him, a political appointee, in the PMO.

The PCIU boys probed the ‘housed’ suspect and trailed him on a couple of occasions to the residing places of a few senior Pakistani diplomats. Discreet enquiry revealed that a sister of Bakshi was married to the Pakistani journalist. Enquiries with the PMO and the MHA did not reveal any material declaration submitted by Bakshi to the government about the fact of his sister marrying a Pakistani national. A ‘public servant’ working in the PMO is required by law to submit such a declaration.

I brought the matter to the notice of the Director and requested him to brief the PM personally and to request him to reconsider the inadvisability of keeping ZZZ Bakshi in his personal office. Pathak had not given up on his old habit of sending reports to the governments under his signature even after he assumed the highest office. He had acquired that habit as a desk analyst. On this sensitive issue also he directed me to issue a UO note to the PMO and MHA, instead of briefing the PM personally. I had to give in after a brief protestation.

The ministries often develop sieve like characteristics, through which industrial houses enter the inner core of the system and burgle out those valuable documents, which promote their business interest and help them in blackmailing the politicians. This particular document about ZZZ Bakshi too was smuggled out, most probably from the MHA, and its contents were prominently published in English daily. The motive was not very far to seek. Narasimha Rao had earned the displeasure of the tycoon on several counts, including showering favour on his opponents like Nusli Wadia, a grandchild of Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the father of Pakistan and also on the house of the Ruiyas.

Hell broke lose after the report was published that showered me with fire and brimstone. The Director IB shifted the blame on to me after he was confronted by the PM secretariat. I was summoned to the presence of a senior aide to the PM and was charged with ‘anti-national’ activities. This never-retiring bureaucrat thought that I would cave in and withdraw the report. I stood grounds and told him that his use of the word ‘anti-national’ was highly objectionable and I would be compelled to approach constitutional and legal remedy to protect my interest. He caved in. I explained the circumstances and asked him if he still considered it appropriate to keep the involved person in the PMO. He dismissed me with a big scowl. ZZZ Bakshi had continued in the PMO after filing a declaration of the fact of his sister’s marriage with a Pakistani media person.