PRELUDE
Pakistan obviously has its own side to the records of their part in the inglorious Kargil War, where they failed to achieve any one of their objectives. Pakistan’s Kargil fiasco has been detailed by
Air Commodore Kaiser Tufail who was the Director of Operations of
the Pakistan Air Force (PAF) during the Kargil conflict. He served as Deputy
Commandant and Commandant of the PAF Air War College. He also served as Senior
Air Staff Officer (SASO) at the Southern Air Command before retiring in 2005.
This article by Air Commodore Kaiser Tufail is included
in the Defence Journal (Pak) (May 2009), and "Himalayan Showdown" in
the Air Forces Monthly, UK (June 2009).
”Pakistani writings on Kargil conflict have been few;
those that did come out were largely irrelevant and in a few cases, were
clearly sponsored. The role of the PAF has been discussed off and on, but
mostly disparagingly, particularly in some uninformed quarters."
Here is an airman’s perspective, focusing on the IAF’s
air operations and the PAF’s position. Air Forces Monthly, UK.
Note: This article has not been edited by me.
KARGIL CONFLICT AND PAKISTAN AIR
FORCE
Air Commodore Kaiser Tufail
Operational Planning in the PAF:
Since an important portion of this write-up pertains to
the PAF’s appreciation of the situation and the decision-making loop during the
Kargil conflict, we will start with a brief primer on PAF’s hierarchy and how
operational matters are handled at the Air Headquarters.
The policy-making elements at Air Headquarters consist
of four-tiers of staff officers. The top-most tier is made up of the Deputy
Chiefs of Air Staff (DCAS) who are the Principal Staff Officers (PSOs) of their
respective branches and are nominally headed by the Vice Chief of Air Staff
(VCAS). They (along with Air Officers Commanding, the senior representatives
from field formations) are members of the Air Board, PAF’s ‘corporate’
decision-making body which is chaired by the Chief of the Air Staff (CAS). The
next tier is made up of Assistant Chiefs of Air Staff (ACAS) who head various
sub-branches and, along with the third-tier Directors, assist the PSOs in
policy-making; they are not on the Air Board, but can be called for hearings
and presentations in the Board meetings, as required. A fourth tier of Deputy
Directors does most of the sundry staff work in this policy-making hierarchy.
The Operations & Plans branch is the key player in
any war, conflict or contingency and is responsible for threat assessment and
formulation of a suitable response. During peace-time, war plans are drawn up
by the Plans sub-branch and are then war-gamed in operational exercises run by
the sister Operations sub-branch. Operational training is accordingly
restructured and administered by the latter, based on the lessons of various
exercises. This essentially is the gist of PAF’s operational preparedness
methodology, the efficiency of which is amply reflected in its readiness and
telling response in various wars and skirmishes in the past.
In early 1999, Air Chief Marshal Parvaiz Mehdi Qureshi
was at the helm of the PAF. An officer with an imposing personality, he had won
the Sword of Honour at the Academy. During the 1971 Indo-Pak War, as a young
Flight Lieutenant, he was on a close support mission in erstwhile East Pakistan
when his Sabre was shot down and he was taken POW. He determinedly resumed his
fighter pilot’s career after repatriation and rose to command PAF’s premier
Sargodha Base. He was later appointed as the AOC, Southern Air Command, an
appointment that affords considerable interaction amongst the three services,
especially in operational exercises. He also held the vitally important post of
DCAS (Ops) as well as the VCAS before taking over as CAS.
The post of DCAS (Ops) was held by the late Air Marshal
Zahid Anis. A well-qualified fighter pilot, he had a distinguished career in
the PAF, having held some of the most sought-after appointments. These included
command of No 38 Tactical Wing (F-16s), the elite Combat Commanders’ School and
PAF Base, Sargodha. He was the AOC, Southern Air Command before his appointment
as the head of the Operations branch at the Air Headquarters. He had done his
Air War Course at the PAF’s Air War College, another War Course at the French
War College as well as the prestigious Defence Studies course at the Royal
College of Defence Studies in UK.
The ACAS (Ops) was Air Cdre Abid Rao, who had recently
completed command of PAF Base, Mianwali. He had earlier done his War Course
from the French War College.
The ACAS (Plans) was the late Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz, a
brilliant officer who had made his mark at the Staff College at Bracknell, UK
and during the War Course at the National Defence College, Islamabad.
There is no gainsaying the fact that PAF’s hierarchy
was highly qualified and that each one of the players in the Operations branch
had the requisite command and staff experience. The two top men had also fought
in the 1971 Indo-Pak War, albeit as junior officers.
First Rumblings:
As Director of Operations (in the rank of Gp Capt), my
first opportunity to interact with the Army’s Director of Military Operations
(DMO) was over a phone call, some time in March 1999. Brig Nadeem Ahmed called
with great courtesy and requested some information that he needed for a paper
exercise, as he told me. He wanted to know when had the PAF last carried out a
deployment at Skardu, how many aircraft were deployed, etc. Rather impressed
with the Army’s interest in PAF matters, I passed on the requisite details.
The next day, Brig Nadeem called again, but this time
his questions were more probing and he wanted some classified information
including fuel storage capacity at Skardu, fighter sortie-generation capacity,
radar coverage, etc. He insisted that he was preparing a briefing and wanted to
get his facts and figures right, in front of his bosses. We got on a secure
line and I passed on the required information. Although he made it sound like
routine contingency planning, I sensed that something unusual was brewing. In
the event, I thought it prudent to inform the DCAS (Ops). Just to be sure, he
checked up with his counterpart, the Director General Military Operations
(DGMO), Maj Gen Tauqir Zia, who said the same thing as his DMO and, assured
that it was just part of routine contingency planning.
Not withstanding the DGMO’s assurance, a cautious Air
Marshal Zahid decided to check things for himself and despatched Gp Capt Tariq
Ashraf, Officer Commanding of No 33 Wing at PAF Base, Kamra, to look things over
at Skardu and make a report. Within a few days, Gp Capt Tariq (who was also the
designated war-time commander of Skardu Base) had completed his visit, which
included his own periodic war-readiness inspection. While he made a detailed
report to the DCAS (Ops), he let me in on the Army’s mobilisation and other
preparations that he had seen in Skardu. His analysis was that ‘something big
is imminent.’ Helicopter flying activity was feverishly high as Army Aviation’s
Mi-17s were busy moving artillery guns and ammunition to the mountain tops.
Troops in battle gear were to be seen all over the city.
Interestingly, Messes were abuzz with war chatter
amongst young officers. In retrospect, one wonders how Indian intelligence
agencies failed to read any such signs, many weeks before the operation
unfolded.
After hearing Gp Capt Tariq’s report, Air Marshal Zahid
again got in touch with Maj Gen Tauqir and, in a roundabout way, told him that
if the Army’s ongoing ‘review of contingency plans’ required the PAF to be
factored in, an Operations & Plans team would be available for discussion.
Nothing was heard from the GHQ till 12 May, when Air Marshal Zahid was told to
send a team for a briefing at HQ 10 Corps with regard to the ‘Kashmir
Contingency’.
Air Cdre Abid Rao, Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz and myself
were directed by the DCAS (Ops) to attend a briefing on the ‘latest situation
in Kashmir’ at HQ 10 Corps. We were welcomed by the Chief of Staff (COS) of the
Corps, who led us to the briefing room. Shortly thereafter, the Corps
Commander, Lt Gen Mahmood Ahmed entered, cutting an impressive figure clad in a
bush-coat and his trademark camouflage scarf. After exchanging pleasantries,
the COS started with the map orientation briefing. Thereafter, Lt Gen Mahmood
took over and broke the news that a limited operation had started two days
earlier.
It was nothing more than a ‘protective manoeuvre’, he
explained, and was meant to foreclose any further mischief by the enemy, who
had been a nuisance in the Neelum Valley, specially on the road on our side of
the Line of Control (LOC). He then elaborated that a few vacant Indian posts
had been occupied on peaks across the LOC, overlooking the Dras-Kargil Road.
These would, in effect, serve the purpose of Airborne Observation Posts (AOP)
meant for directing artillery fire with accuracy. Artillery firepower would be
provided by a couple of field guns that had been heli-lifted to the heights,
piecemeal, and re-assembled over the previous few months when the Indians had
been off-guard during the winter extremes.
The target was a vulnerable section of Dras-Kargil
Road, whose blocking would virtually cut off the crucial life-line which
carried the bulk of supplies needed for daily consumption as well as annual
winter-stocking in Leh-Siachen Sector. He was very hopeful that this stratagem
could choke off the Indians in the vital sector for up to a month, after which
the monsoons would prevent vehicular movement (due to landslides) and, also
suspend all airlift by the IAF.“Come October, we shall walk in to Siachen – to
mop up the dead bodies of hundreds of Indians left hungry, out in the cold,” he
succinctly summed up what appeared to be a new dimension to the Siachen
dispute.
It also seemed to serve, at least for the time being,
the secondary aim of alleviating Indian military pressure on Pakistani lines of
communications in the Neelum Valley that the Corps Commander had alluded to in
his opening remarks. (The oft-heard strategic aim of ‘providing a fillip to the
insurgency in Kashmir’ was never mentioned.)
When Lt Gen Mahmood asked for questions at the end of
the rather crisp and to-the-point briefing, Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz opened up by
inquiring about the type of air support that might be needed for the operation.
Lt Gen Mahmood assured us that air support was not envisaged and that his
forces could take care of enemy aircraft, if they intervened. “I have Stingers
on every peak,” he announced. Air Cdre Saleem tried to point out the limited
envelope of these types of missiles and said that nothing stopped the IAF from
attacking the posts and artillery pieces from high altitude. To this, Lt Gen
Mahmood’s reply was that his troops were well camouflaged and concealed and,
that IAF pilots would not be able to pick out the posts from the air.
As the discussion became more animated, I asked the
Corps Commander if he was sure the Indians would not use their artillery to
vacate our incursion, given the criticality of the situation from their
standpoint. He replied that the Dras-Kargil stretch did not allow for
positioning of the hundreds of guns that would be required, due to lack of
depth; in any case, it would be suicidal for the Indians to denude artillery
firepower from any other sector as defensive balance had to be maintained. He
gave the example of the Kathua-Jammu Sector where the Indians had a compulsion
to keep the bulk of their modern Bofors guns due to the vital road link’s
vulnerability to our offensive elements.
It seemed from the Corps Commander’s smug appreciation
of the situation that the Indians had been tightly straitjacketed in
Dras-Kargil Sector and had no option but to submit to our operational design.
More significantly, an alternate action like a strategic riposte by the Indians
in another sector had been rendered out of question, given the nuclear
environment. Whether resort to an exterior manoeuvre (diplomatic offensive) by
the beleaguered Indians had crossed the planners’ minds, it was not discernable
in the Corps Commander’s elucidation.
Perhaps it was the incredulousness of the whole thing
that led Air Cdre Abid Rao to famously quip, “After this operation, it’s going
to be either a Court Martial or Martial Law!” as we walked out of the briefing
room.
Back at the Air Headquarters, we briefed the DCAS(Ops)
about what had transpired at the 10 Corps briefing. His surprise at the
developments, as well as his concern about the possibility of events spiraling
out of control, could not remain concealed behind his otherwise unflappable
demeanor. We all were also piqued at being left out of the Army’s planning,
though we were given to believe that it was a ‘limited tactical action’ in
which the PAF would not be required – an issue that none of us agreed with. Presented
with a fait accompli, we decided not to lose any more time and, while the DCAS
(Ops) went to brief the CAS about the situation, we set about gearing up for a
hectic routine. The operations room was quickly updated with the latest
large-scale maps and air recce photos of the area; communications links with
concerned agencies were also revamped in a short time. Deployment orders were
issued and, within the next 48 hours, the bulk of combat elements were in-situ
at their war locations.
IAF – By Fits & Starts:
The IAF deployments in Kashmir, for what came to be
known as ‘Operation Safedsagar’, commenced on 15 May with the bulk of
operational assets positioned by 18 May. 150 combat aircraft were deployed as
follows:
> Srinagar - 34 (MiG-21, MiG-23, MiG-27)
> Awantipur - 28 (MiG-21, MiG-29, Jaguar)
> Udhampur - 12 (MiG-21)
> Pathankot - 30 (MiG-21, MiG-23)
> Adampur - 46 (Mir-2000, MiG-29, Jaguar)
One-third of the aircraft were modern, ‘high-threat’
fighters equipped with Beyond Visual Range (BVR) air-to-air missiles. During
the preparatory stage, air defence alert status (5 minutes to scramble from
ground) was maintained while Mirage-2000s and Jaguars carried out
photo-reconnaissance along the Line of Control (LOC) and aging Canberra's
carried out electronic intelligence (ELINT) to ferret out locations of PAF air
defence sensors. Last minute honing of strafing and rocketing skills was
carried out by pilots at an air-to-ground firing range near Leh.
Operations by IAF started in earnest on 26 May, a full
16 days after commencement of Pakistani infiltration across the LOC. The
salient feature of this initial phase was strafing and rocketing of the
intruders’ positions by MiG-21, MiG-23BN and MiG-27. All operations (except air
defence) came to a sudden standstill on 28 May, after two IAF fighters and a
helicopter were lost – a MiG-21 and a Mi-17 to Pak Army surface-to-air missiles
(SAMs), while a MiG-27 went down due to engine trouble caused by gun gas
ingestion during high altitude strafing.
(Incidentally, the pilot of the MiG-27 Flt Lt
Nachiketa, who ejected and was apprehended, had a tête-à -tête with this author
during an interesting ‘interrogation’ session.)
The results achieved by the IAF in the first two days
were dismal. Serious restraints seem to have been imposed on the freedom of
action of IAF fighters in what was basically a search-and-destroy mission. Lt
Gen Mahmood’s rant about a ‘Stinger on every peak’ seemed true. It was obvious
that the IAF had under-estimated the SAM threat. The mood in Pak Army circles
was that of undiluted elation, and the PAF was expected to sit it out while
sharing the khakis’ glee.
The IAF immediately went into a reappraisal mode and
came out with GPS-assisted high altitude bombing by MiG-21, MiG-23BN and MiG-27
as a makeshift solution. In the meantime, quick modification on the Mirage-2000
for day/night laser bombing kits (Litening pods) was initiated with the help of
Israelis. Conventional bombing that started incessantly after a two-day
operational hiatus, was aimed at harassment and denial of respite to the
infiltrators, with consequent adverse effects on morale. The results of this
part of the campaign were largely insignificant, mainly because the target
coordinates were not known accurately; the nature of the terrain too, precluded
precision.
By 16 June, IAF was able to open up the laser-guided
bombing campaign with the help of Jaguars and Mirage-2000. Daily photo-recce
along the LOC by Jaguars escorted by Mirage-2000s, which had continued from the
beginning of operations, proved crucial to both the aerial bombing campaign as
well as the Indian artillery, helping the latter in accurately shelling
Pakistani positions in the Dras-Kargil and Gultari Sectors. While the
photo-recce missions typically did not involve deliberate border violations,
there were a total of 37 ‘technical violations’ (which emanate as a consequence
of kinks and bends in the geographical boundaries). Typically, these averaged
to a depth of five nautical miles, except on one occasion when the IAF fighters
apparently cocked-a-snoot at the PAF and came in 13 miles deep.
The Mirage-2000s scored at least five successful
laser-guided bomb hits on forward dumping sites and posts. During the last days
of operations which ended on 12 July, it was clear that delivery accuracy had
improved considerably. Even though night bombing accuracy was suspect,
round-the-clock attacks had made retention of posts untenable for Pakistani
infiltrators. Photo-recce of Pakistani artillery gun positions also made them
vulnerable to the punishing Indian artillery barrages.
The IAF flew a total of 550 strike missions against
infiltrator positions including bunkers and supply depots. The coordinates of
these locations were mostly picked up from about 150 reconnaissance and communications
intelligence missions. In addition, 500 missions were flown for air defence and
for escorting strike and recce missions.
While the Indians had been surprised by the
infiltration in Kargil, the IAF mobilised and reacted rapidly as the Indian
Army took time to position itself. Later, when the Indian Army had entrenched
itself, the IAF supplemented and filled in where the artillery could not be
positioned in force. Clearly, Army-Air joint operations had a synergistic
effect in evicting the intruders.
PAF in a Bind:
From the very beginning of Kargil operations, PAF was entrapped by a
circumstantial absurdity: it was faced with the ludicrous predicament of having
to provide air support to infiltrators already disowned by the Pakistan Army
leadership!
In any case, it took some effort to impress on the
latter that crossing the LOC by fighters laden with bombs was not, by any
stretch of imagination, akin to lobbing a few artillery shells to settle
scores. There was no doubt in the minds of PAF Air Staff that the first
cross-border attack (whether across LOC or the international border) would
invite an immediate response from the IAF, possibly in the shape of a
retaliatory strike against the home base of the intruding fighters, thus
starting the first round. PAF’s intervention meant all-out war: this
unmistakable conclusion was conveyed to the Prime Minister, Mr Nawaz Sharif, by
the Air Chief in no equivocal terms.
Short of starting an all-out war, PAF looked at some
saner options that could put some wind in the sails after doldrums had been
hit. Air Marshal Najib Akhtar, the Air Officer Commanding of Air Defence
Command was co-opted by the Air Staff to sift the possibilities. Audacious and
innovative in equal parts, Air Marshal Najib had an excellent knowledge about
our own and the enemy’s Air Defence Ground Environment (ADGE). He had conceived
and overseen the unprecedented heli-lift of a low-looking radar to a 12,000-ft
mountain top on the forbidding, snow-clad Deosai Plateau. The highly risky
operation became possible with the help of some courageous flying by Army
Aviation pilots. With good low level radar cover now available up to the LOC,
Air Marshal Najib along with the Air Staff focused on fighter sweep (a mission
flown to destroy patrolling enemy fighters) as a possible option.
To prevent the mission from being seen as an escalatory
step in the already charged atmosphere, PAF had to lure Indian fighters into
its own territory, ie Azad Kashmir or the Northern Areas. That done, a number
of issues had to be tackled. What if the enemy aircraft were hit in our
territory but fell across, providing a pretext to India as a doubly aggrieved
party? What if one of our own aircraft fell, no matter if the exchange was
one-to-one (or better)? Finally, even if we were able to pull off a surprise,
would it not be a one-off incident, with the IAF becoming wiser in quick time?
The over-arching consideration was the BVR missile capability of IAF fighters
which impinged unfavorably on the mission success probability. The idea of a
fighter sweep thus fizzled out as quickly as it came up for discussion.
While the PAF looked at some offensive options, it had
a more pressing defensive issue at hand. The IAF’s minor border violations
during recce missions were not of grave consequence in so far as no bombing had
taken place in our territory; however, the fact that these missions helped the
enemy refine its air and artillery targeting, was, to say the least,
disconcerting. There were constant reports of our troops on the LOC disturbed
to see, or hear, IAF fighters operating with apparent impunity. The GHQ took
the matter up with the AHQ and it was resolved that Combat Air Patrols (CAPs)
would be flown by the F-16s operating out of Minhas (Kamra) and Sargodha. This
arrangement resulted in less on-station time but was safer than operating out
of vulnerable Skardu, which had inadequate early warning in the mountainous
terrain; its status as a turn-around facility was, however, considered
acceptable for its location. A flight of F-7s was, nonetheless, deployed
primarily for point defence of the important garrison town of Skardu as well as
the air base.
F-16 CAPs could not have been flown all day long as
spares support was limited under the prevailing US sanctions. Random CAPs were
resorted to, with a noticeable drop in border violations only as long as the
F-16s were on station. There were a few cases of F-16s and Mirage-2000s locking
their adversaries with the on-board radars but caution usually prevailed and no
close encounters took place. After one week of CAPs, the F-16 maintenance
personnel indicated that war reserve spares were being eaten into and that the
activity had to be ‘rationalised’, a euphemism for discontinuing it altogether.
That an impending war occupied the Air Staff’s minds was evident in the
decision by the DCAS (Ops) for F-16 CAPs to be discontinued, unless IAF
activity became unbearably provocative or threatening.
Those not aware of the gravity of the F-16 operability
problem under sanctions have complained of the PAF’s lack of cooperation.
Suffice it to say that if the PAF had been included in the initial planning,
this anomaly (along with many others) would have emerged as a mitigating factor
against the Kargil adventure. It is another matter that the Army high command
did not envisage operations ever coming to such a pass. Now, it was almost as
if the PAF was to blame for the Kargil venture spiraling out of control.
It also must be noted too that other than F-16s, the
PAF did not have a capable enough fighter for patrolling, as the minimum
requirement in this scenario was an on-board airborne intercept radar,
exceptional agility and sufficient staying power. F-7s had reasonably good
manoeuvrability but lacked an intercept radar as well as endurance, while the
ground attack Mirage-III/5s and A-5s were sitting ducks for the air combat
mission.
In sum, the PAF found it expedient not to worry too
much about minor border violations and instead, conserve resources for the
larger conflagration that was looming. All the same, it gave the enemy no
pretext for retaliation in the face of any provocation, though this latter
stance irked some quarters in the Army that were desperate to ‘equal the
match’. Might it strike to some that PAF’s restraint in warding off a major
conflagration may have been its paramount contribution to the Kargil conflict?
Aftermath:
It has emerged that the principal protagonists of the
Kargil adventure were General Pervez Musharraf: Chief of Army Staff, Lt Gen
Mahmood Ahmed: Commander 10 Corps and, Maj Gen Javed Hasan: Commander Force
Command Northern Areas. The trio, in previous ranks and appointments, had been
associated with planning during paper exercises on how to wrest control of lost
territory in Siachen.
The Chief of General Staff, Lt Gen Aziz Khan, and the
DGMO, Maj Gen Tauqir Zia were less than enthusiastic about the plan, but went
along anyway. The plan was not acceptable to the then Prime Minister Benazir
Bhutto, to whom the options had been put up for review more than once. She was
well-versed in international affairs and, all too intelligent to be taken in by
the chicanery. It fell to the wisdom of her successor, Mr Nawaz Sharif, to
approve the Army trio’s self-serving presentation.
In an effort to keep the plan secret, which was thought
to be the key to its successful initiation, the Army trio took no one into
confidence, neither its own operational commanders nor the heads of the other
services. This, regrettably, resulted in a closed-loop thought process which
engendered a string of oversights and failures:
- Failure to grasp the wider military and diplomatic
ramifications of a limited tactical operation that had the potential of
creating major strategic effects.
- Failure to correctly visualise the response of a
powerful enemy to what was, in effect, a major blow in a disputed sector.
- Failure to spell out the specific aim to field
commanders, who acted on their own to needlessly capture territory and expand
the scope of the operation to unmanageable levels.
- Failure to appreciate the inability of the Army
officers to evaluate the capabilities and limitations of an Air Force.
- Failure to coordinate contingency plans at the
tri-services level.
The flaws in the Kargil Plan that led to these failures
were almost palpable and, could not have escaped even a layman’s attention
during a cursory examination. The question arises as to why all the planners
got blinded to the obvious? Could it be that some of the sub-ordinates had the
sight but not the nerve in the face of a powerful superior?
In hierarchical organisations, there is precious little
room for dissent, but in autocratic ones like the military, it takes more than
a spine to disagree, for there are very few commanders who are large enough to
allow such liberties. It is out of fear of annoying the superior – which also
carries with it manifold penalties and loss of promotion and perks – that the
majority decides to go along with the wind.
In a country where democratic traditions have never
been deep-rooted, it is no big exposé to point out that the military is steeped
in an authoritarian, rather than a consensual approach. To my mind, there is an
urgent need to inculcate a more liberal culture that accommodates different
points of view – a more lateral approach, so to speak. Disagreement during
planning should be systemically tolerated and, not taken as a personal affront.
Unfortunately, many in higher ranks seem to think that rank alone confers
wisdom and, anyone displaying signs of intelligence at an earlier stage is,
somehow, an alien in their ‘star-spangled’ universe.
Kargil, I suspect, like the ‘65 and ‘71 Wars, was a
case of not having enough dissenters (‘devil’s advocates’, if you will) during
planning, because everyone wanted to agree with the boss. That single reason, I
think, was the root cause of most of the failures that were apparent right from
the beginning. If this point is understood well, remedial measures towards
tolerance and liberalism can follow as a matter of course. Such an
organisational milieu, based on honest appraisal and fearless appeal, would be
conducive to sound and sensible planning. It would also go a long way in
precluding Kargil-like disasters.
Tailpiece:
Come change-over time of the Chief of Air Staff in
2001, President Musharraf struck at PAF’s top leadership in what can only be
described as implacable action: he passed over all five Air Marshals and
appointed the sixth-in-line who was practically an Air Vice Marshal till a few
weeks before.
While disregarding of seniority in the appointment of
service chiefs has historically been endemic in the country, the practice has
been seen as breeding nepotism and partiality, besides leaving a trail of
conjecture and gossip in the ranks. Given Air Chief Marshal Mehdi’s rather
straight-faced and forthright dealings with General Musharraf, particularly
during Kargil conflict, there is good reason to believe that the latter decided
to appoint a not-very-senior Air Chief whom he could order around like one of
his Corps Commanders.
Whatever the reason of bypassing seniority, it was
unfortunate that PAF’s precious corporate experience was thrown out so crassly
and several careers destroyed.
The Pakistani lives and honour lost in Kargil is
another matter.
