A Spanish Naval captain was walking leisurely on his battleship when a subordinate rushes over to him and says "Sir, an enemy battleship is fast approaching us. We should be ready."
The captain replies coolly "Go. Get my Red shirt." The subordinate rushes over and gets the Shirt for his captain. The captain wears the red shirt.
After some time, the enemy battleship comes in range. Consequently heavy rounds of fire are exchanged between the two battleships. After much effort, the Spanish win.
The subordinate approaches his boss, "Congratulations for the victory sir, but why did you require the red shirt in the first place?"
The captain replies "Because, during the war if I got injured then my blood should not have been seen as I did not want my men to lose hope and to Fight with the same ferocity."
Just then another subordinate rushes over. "Sir, we just spotted another 20 enemy battleships heading in our direction."
The captain replies coolly “Go. Get my yellow trousers.”
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Why LTTE failed
Why LTTE failed
- R. HARIHARAN
Its performance in Eelam War IV glaringly displayed Prabakaran’s limitations in mastering the art of conventional warfare.
SRI LANKA’S security forces appear to have redeemed their professional reputation with their resounding success in the fourth edition of the Eelam War, which has been going on since 2006 against the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), popularly known as the Tamil Tigers. They were not able to achieve decisive results against the LTTE in their three earlier outings.
The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) had rated the Tamil Tigers as “among the most dangerous and deadly extremists in the world”. The FBI said the LTTE’s “ruthless tactics have inspired terrorist networks worldwide, including Al Qaeda in Iraq”. So, the security forces’ success against the LTTE should not be underestimated, particularly when similar wars against insurgents and terrorists in other countries, including Afghanistan, have been dragging on.
The LTTE, over the past 25 years, has built a 15,000-strong force that innovatively adapted its suicide war tactics to both land and naval warfare with deadly results. It mastered the use of terror tactics as a force multiplier. The LTTE’s charismatic and ruthless leader, Velupillai Prabakaran, built a loyal network of cadre – the Black Tigers – whose deadly suicide terror attacks changed the course of political history in Sri Lanka and to a certain extent in India also. Now the insurgents stand reduced to a few hundreds and have lost their entire territory of over 15,000 square kilometres and their equipment, weapons, armament and infrastructure so essential for survival as a viable entity.
The LTTE demonstrated its prowess with a daring suicide attack on Colombo’s Katunayake international airport, destroying 26 military and civil aircraft, in July 2001, just four months before Al Qaeda’s dramatic 9/11 attacks in New York. It sent a strong message to Sri Lanka and the world at large that the LTTE was a formidable force not be trifled with. But the consequences of the 9/11 attack on the global attitude to terrorism was far-reaching. The U.S. marshalled forces for a global war on terror to destroy Al Qaeda and its roots in Islamist terror. And the LTTE was already listed in the U.S. as a foreign terrorist organisation.
The late Anton Balasingham, a close confidant of Prabakaran’s and the political adviser to the LTTE, apparently understood the need to modify the LTTE strategy in the face of the rising tide against terrorism. He persuaded a reluctant Prabakaran to agree to take part in a Norwegian-mediated peace process, deferring the idea of an independent Eelam in favour of finding a solution to accommodate Tamil aspirations within a federal structure. That was how the 2002 peace process came into being.
The LTTE signed the Cease Fire Agreement (CFA) with Sri Lanka in 2002 as part of the peace process from a position of political and military strength, having weathered four wars – three against Sri Lankan security forces and one against Indian forces. It was at the pinnacle of its power at that time. To a certain extent, this enabled the Tamil Tigers to dictate the terms of the peace process, which recognised it as the sole representative of the Tamil minority, a status denied to it earlier. Thus, the peace process accorded parity of status to the LTTE at the negotiating table in its equation with the elected government of Sri Lanka.
By then, the repeated stories of LTTE successes, propagated by its well-oiled propaganda machine that glossed over its significant failures (for example, the retaking of control of Jaffna by the Sri Lanka Army), reinforced the popular belief of Prabakaran’s invincibility in war. It also generated great political expectations among the Tamil population of his ability to satisfy their long-standing aspirations through the peace process although he had dropped the demand for an independent Tamil Eelam. All that has been proved wrong now.
Winston Churchill once remarked, “Those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war.” This is very true in the case of Prabakaran’s handling of events leading up to the war. His monolithic and egocentric leadership style does not encourage the free exchange of ideas except with his trusted childhood friends. This has been the big roadblock in his strategic decision-making process. Prabakaran failed to use fruitfully the political talent at his disposal, among the seasoned members of the Tamil National Alliance (TNA), in handling complex political issues during the period of peace. Their advice was neither sought nor paid heed to in taking decisions on key issues. The LTTE’s handling of the presidential poll of 2005 is one such instance when their plea for his support to elect Ranil Wickremesinghe, an architect of the peace process, went unheeded.
Wickremesinghe’s rival, Mahinda Rajapaksa, had promised, in his election manifesto, to eliminate LTTE terrorism. Prabakaran not only ignored this but, on the basis of some convoluted reasoning, enforced a boycott of the presidential poll in areas under LTTE control. This action prevented a bulk of the Tamils from voting for Wickremesinghe. This enabled Rajapaksa’s victory with a wafer-thin majority through southern Sinhala votes. And the newly elected President went about systematically dismantling the LTTE.
Similarly, Prabakaran’s handling of the international community lacked coherence. Apparently, he misunderstood the international involvement in the 2002 peace process and thought it was a vindication of the LTTE’s methods. Perhaps this made him complacent when it came to observing the ceasefire in spirit. The LTTE’s conduct, which was in utter disregard of international norms on human rights and humanitarian laws during the entire period of the ceasefire, came under severe criticism from international watchdog bodies and the United Nations. These related to a large number of issues, including the recruitment of child soldiers, illegal arrests and kidnapping apart from the assassinations and suicide bombings. This made the LTTE’s rhetoric on human rights hollow.
While the co-chairs were sympathetic to the Tamil struggle for equity, they were wary of the LTTE’s tactics and covert operations in their own countries. And the LTTE’s indifference to their counsel during the peace process eroded its credibility. Things came to a boil with the assassination of Sri Lankan Foreign Minister Lakshman Kadirgamar in August 2005. This wanton act compelled the European Union and Canada to ban the LTTE. Thus, the LTTE shot itself in the foot as it was banned in 32 countries. The ban also coincided with the introduction of strong international protocols in shipping and against money laundering to prevent the international operations of terrorists.
Prabakaran probably failed to appreciate the implications of these developments when he gave the government a legitimate excuse to abandon the peace process after the LTTE made an abortive suicide attack in April 2006 on Lieutenant General Sarath Fonseka, the Army chief. It also enabled Rajapaksa to persuade the international community to crack down on the LTTE’s support network and front organisations in their midst. International cooperation was further enlarged in scope to intelligence sharing and economic aid, which indirectly underwrote Sri Lanka’s mounting burden of war.
Similarly, Prabakaran never made any effort before the war to redeem the LTTE’s relations with India. He failed to tap the fund of sympathy for the Tamil cause that exists in India even among large sections of the non-Tamil population. Presumably, his dubious role in Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination prevented him from dispassionately examining the positive contribution India could have made in pushing the Tamil cause at the negotiating table. Apparently, he put his faith in the international community rather than in India to bail him out when the Sri Lankan government decided to go to war. This showed a lack of understanding of the complexities of international relations. On the other hand, successive Sri Lankan Presidents went out of their way to keep India in good humour and that helped the country politically and militarily in its war with the LTTE. In Eelam War III (1995-2002), the performance of the Sri Lankan security forces was far from satisfactory. By then, the LTTE had developed the Sea Tiger wing – a daring guerilla navy that played havoc with the Sri Lanka Navy. The Sri Lanka Army had suffered heavy casualties in defending Mullaithivu and suffered a huge setback in Elephant Pass despite its superior strength and firepower. In that operation, the LTTE acquired its modern artillery, armour and high-tech communication systems apart from capturing equipment.
At the start of the peace process, the security forces were a demoralised lot. The terms of the peace process further added to their misery as it prevented them from retaliating when the LTTE’s pistol groups systematically eliminated the forces’ intelligence operatives and killed even military commanders during the first three years of peace. In this backdrop, no one was sure of the ability of Sri Lanka’s forces to sustain an offensive against the LTTE when Eelam War IV started in 2006.
Even after the LTTE defeat in Mavil Aru in the Eastern Province in July 2006, the security forces were cautious in their optimism. However, the LTTE belied the defence analysts’ expectations when it floundered in the Eastern Province, offering stiff resistance only in patches. Perhaps, it was at this time that Rajapaksa and Fonseka made up their minds to go the whole hog against the LTTE in the north.
Although Prabakaran has demonstrated strategic military capability in the past, he appears to have failed to draw two obvious strategic deductions in the developing war scenario, which put the LTTE at a disadvantage. The first was not factoring the impact of the defection of Karuna, his able military commander from Batticaloa, on the LTTE’s overall military capability. The second was in underestimating the determination of Sri Lanka’s political and military leadership to turn Rajapaksa’s promise to eliminate the LTTE into a reality.Prabakaran never made any effort to patch up with Karuna, who had grievances with respect to the poor representation of easterners in the leadership although they provided the bulk of the LTTE cadre. Instead, he dispatched killers to eliminate Karuna. The rebel leader commanded wide support among cadre in the east, particularly around LTTE strongholds in Batticaloa. A direct consequence of his defection was the disbanding of a bulk of LTTE cadre, other than Karuna’s core supporters. It also drove Karuna into the arms of the Sri Lanka Army for protection. So when the war started in the east, the LTTE’s strength as well as its manoeuvring space was reduced.
In the course of time, recruitment from the east to augment LTTE strength petered out. Ultimately, when the security forces launched their offensive in the north with huge numerical superiority, the LTTE did not have the essential strength to face the onslaught. It was clear that the LTTE would not be able halt the security forces by conventional warfare.
However, somehow Prabakaran failed to use his superior insurgency tactics to overcome his limitations in conventional warfare. Instead, the LTTE adopted a passive defensive strategy with a line of bunds that reduced the natural advantage of guerilla mobility enjoyed by the cadre. The bunds imposed a limited delay as they required heavy firepower to break up the offensive. This was a luxury that the LTTE did not enjoy.
The second aspect was the LTTE leader’s failure to read the mind of Rajapaksa. In his first two years in office, the President had oriented his entire policy framework towards the goal of eliminating the LTTE. His strong support to the operations of the security forces, regardless of national and international compulsions, enabled the Army chief to plan and execute his offensive.
SENA VIDANAGAMA/AFP
Karuna (right) speaking to women LTTE fighters in Batticaloa district on Women’s Day in March 2004. Prabakaran failed to take into account the impact of Karuna’s defection from the LTTE on its overall military capability.
His strategic direction of war, operational planning and neat execution undoubtedly paved the way for success. In the words of Lieutenant General Satish Nambiar, the distinguished Indian Army officer, Fonseka “displayed the qualities of a great military leader nations are blessed with from time to time”. In short, under Fonseka’s leadership, the demoralised armed forces reinvented themselves to become a well-knit and highly motivated force.
As a result, when the security forces went to war in 2006, they were well-trained and enjoyed superiority in firepower and mobility. Learning from the past, they built up force levels on land, in the air and at sea to ensure success against the Tamil Tigers. The Sri Lanka Army went on a recruiting spree. For instance, in the year 2008 alone 40,000 troops were added, to raise 47 infantry battalions, 13 brigades, four task force contingents and two divisions. The Army now has 13 divisions, three task forces and one armoured brigade. Evidently, Prabakaran failed to read the sea change taking place in the capabilities of the security forces and adapt his tactics. Instead, he stuck to a conventional warfare mode that was doomed to fail although it inflicted casualties on the advancing troops.
Fonseka adopted a multi-pronged strategy to split the defending Tamil Tiger ranks and keep them guessing. It aimed at pinning down the LTTE at the forward-defended localities astride the Kandy-Jaffna A-9 road in the north from Kilali-Muhamalai-Nagarkovil and in the south along the Palamoddai-Omanthai line. This prevented the LTTE from thinning out the troops to reinforce its defences along other axes.
Offensives along two broad axes were launched: along the Mannar-Pooneryn/Jaffna A-32 road on the west coast to block LTTE access to Tamil Nadu through the Mannar Sea and along the Welioya-Mullaithivu-Puthukudiyiruppu line on the east coast. Operations on these axes progressively cut off the external supply of military equipment and essential goods to the LTTE by sea. In tandem with ground operations, the Sri Lanka Navy progressively curtailed the freedom of movement of Sea Tiger boats and prevented LTTE shipments from reaching the Sri Lanka coast. In well-planned raids in international waters, the Navy destroyed eight ships of the LTTE’s tramp supply shipping fleet in 2006-07.
Despite faltering steps at times, the security forces maintained the momentum of their offensive in the north from the second half of 2007, which culminated in the dramatic capture in January 2009 of Kilinochchi, the so-called administrative capital of the LTTE. This capture contributed largely to the rapid advance of the security forces in areas east of the A-9 axis, which never gave the withdrawing LTTE a respite or permitted it to deliver a strong counterstroke.
In the present Eelam war, except for a short-lived surprise offensive in the Jaffna peninsula in the early stages of the confrontation in the north, the LTTE was never able to launch proactively a major offensive or a sizable counteroffensive against the security forces that would have turned the course of the war.
The LTTE strategy of carting off all the civilians from captured areas to areas under its control after the fall of Kilinochchi is questionable. This reactive defence strategy affected the mobility of cadre, pinning them down to static defences rather than allowing them to adopt a resilient mobile withdrawal strategy. This strategy neither prevented the security forces from using their heavy weapons or air force nor vindicated the LTTE’s use of civilians as human shields. It only generated adverse publicity, and that the security forces were also blamed for the same callousness in dealing with ordinary people is no consolation as they have emerged as victors.
The performance of the LTTE in Eelam War IV glaringly displayed Prabakaran’s limitations in mastering the art of conventional warfare. As he is an astute military leader, if he survives the current ordeal, he will put on his thinking cap to reinvent the LTTE, just as Fonseka reinvented the security forces when he took on the monumental task of reviving them and leading them to war.•
Colonel R. Hariharan is a retired Military Intelligence specialist on South Asia and served as the head of intelligence of the Indian Peace Keeping Force in Sri Lanka 1987-90.
E-mail: colhari@yahoo.com
- R. HARIHARAN
Its performance in Eelam War IV glaringly displayed Prabakaran’s limitations in mastering the art of conventional warfare.
SRI LANKA’S security forces appear to have redeemed their professional reputation with their resounding success in the fourth edition of the Eelam War, which has been going on since 2006 against the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), popularly known as the Tamil Tigers. They were not able to achieve decisive results against the LTTE in their three earlier outings.
The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) had rated the Tamil Tigers as “among the most dangerous and deadly extremists in the world”. The FBI said the LTTE’s “ruthless tactics have inspired terrorist networks worldwide, including Al Qaeda in Iraq”. So, the security forces’ success against the LTTE should not be underestimated, particularly when similar wars against insurgents and terrorists in other countries, including Afghanistan, have been dragging on.
The LTTE, over the past 25 years, has built a 15,000-strong force that innovatively adapted its suicide war tactics to both land and naval warfare with deadly results. It mastered the use of terror tactics as a force multiplier. The LTTE’s charismatic and ruthless leader, Velupillai Prabakaran, built a loyal network of cadre – the Black Tigers – whose deadly suicide terror attacks changed the course of political history in Sri Lanka and to a certain extent in India also. Now the insurgents stand reduced to a few hundreds and have lost their entire territory of over 15,000 square kilometres and their equipment, weapons, armament and infrastructure so essential for survival as a viable entity.
The LTTE demonstrated its prowess with a daring suicide attack on Colombo’s Katunayake international airport, destroying 26 military and civil aircraft, in July 2001, just four months before Al Qaeda’s dramatic 9/11 attacks in New York. It sent a strong message to Sri Lanka and the world at large that the LTTE was a formidable force not be trifled with. But the consequences of the 9/11 attack on the global attitude to terrorism was far-reaching. The U.S. marshalled forces for a global war on terror to destroy Al Qaeda and its roots in Islamist terror. And the LTTE was already listed in the U.S. as a foreign terrorist organisation.
The late Anton Balasingham, a close confidant of Prabakaran’s and the political adviser to the LTTE, apparently understood the need to modify the LTTE strategy in the face of the rising tide against terrorism. He persuaded a reluctant Prabakaran to agree to take part in a Norwegian-mediated peace process, deferring the idea of an independent Eelam in favour of finding a solution to accommodate Tamil aspirations within a federal structure. That was how the 2002 peace process came into being.
The LTTE signed the Cease Fire Agreement (CFA) with Sri Lanka in 2002 as part of the peace process from a position of political and military strength, having weathered four wars – three against Sri Lankan security forces and one against Indian forces. It was at the pinnacle of its power at that time. To a certain extent, this enabled the Tamil Tigers to dictate the terms of the peace process, which recognised it as the sole representative of the Tamil minority, a status denied to it earlier. Thus, the peace process accorded parity of status to the LTTE at the negotiating table in its equation with the elected government of Sri Lanka.
By then, the repeated stories of LTTE successes, propagated by its well-oiled propaganda machine that glossed over its significant failures (for example, the retaking of control of Jaffna by the Sri Lanka Army), reinforced the popular belief of Prabakaran’s invincibility in war. It also generated great political expectations among the Tamil population of his ability to satisfy their long-standing aspirations through the peace process although he had dropped the demand for an independent Tamil Eelam. All that has been proved wrong now.
Winston Churchill once remarked, “Those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war.” This is very true in the case of Prabakaran’s handling of events leading up to the war. His monolithic and egocentric leadership style does not encourage the free exchange of ideas except with his trusted childhood friends. This has been the big roadblock in his strategic decision-making process. Prabakaran failed to use fruitfully the political talent at his disposal, among the seasoned members of the Tamil National Alliance (TNA), in handling complex political issues during the period of peace. Their advice was neither sought nor paid heed to in taking decisions on key issues. The LTTE’s handling of the presidential poll of 2005 is one such instance when their plea for his support to elect Ranil Wickremesinghe, an architect of the peace process, went unheeded.
Wickremesinghe’s rival, Mahinda Rajapaksa, had promised, in his election manifesto, to eliminate LTTE terrorism. Prabakaran not only ignored this but, on the basis of some convoluted reasoning, enforced a boycott of the presidential poll in areas under LTTE control. This action prevented a bulk of the Tamils from voting for Wickremesinghe. This enabled Rajapaksa’s victory with a wafer-thin majority through southern Sinhala votes. And the newly elected President went about systematically dismantling the LTTE.
Similarly, Prabakaran’s handling of the international community lacked coherence. Apparently, he misunderstood the international involvement in the 2002 peace process and thought it was a vindication of the LTTE’s methods. Perhaps this made him complacent when it came to observing the ceasefire in spirit. The LTTE’s conduct, which was in utter disregard of international norms on human rights and humanitarian laws during the entire period of the ceasefire, came under severe criticism from international watchdog bodies and the United Nations. These related to a large number of issues, including the recruitment of child soldiers, illegal arrests and kidnapping apart from the assassinations and suicide bombings. This made the LTTE’s rhetoric on human rights hollow.
While the co-chairs were sympathetic to the Tamil struggle for equity, they were wary of the LTTE’s tactics and covert operations in their own countries. And the LTTE’s indifference to their counsel during the peace process eroded its credibility. Things came to a boil with the assassination of Sri Lankan Foreign Minister Lakshman Kadirgamar in August 2005. This wanton act compelled the European Union and Canada to ban the LTTE. Thus, the LTTE shot itself in the foot as it was banned in 32 countries. The ban also coincided with the introduction of strong international protocols in shipping and against money laundering to prevent the international operations of terrorists.
Prabakaran probably failed to appreciate the implications of these developments when he gave the government a legitimate excuse to abandon the peace process after the LTTE made an abortive suicide attack in April 2006 on Lieutenant General Sarath Fonseka, the Army chief. It also enabled Rajapaksa to persuade the international community to crack down on the LTTE’s support network and front organisations in their midst. International cooperation was further enlarged in scope to intelligence sharing and economic aid, which indirectly underwrote Sri Lanka’s mounting burden of war.
Similarly, Prabakaran never made any effort before the war to redeem the LTTE’s relations with India. He failed to tap the fund of sympathy for the Tamil cause that exists in India even among large sections of the non-Tamil population. Presumably, his dubious role in Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination prevented him from dispassionately examining the positive contribution India could have made in pushing the Tamil cause at the negotiating table. Apparently, he put his faith in the international community rather than in India to bail him out when the Sri Lankan government decided to go to war. This showed a lack of understanding of the complexities of international relations. On the other hand, successive Sri Lankan Presidents went out of their way to keep India in good humour and that helped the country politically and militarily in its war with the LTTE. In Eelam War III (1995-2002), the performance of the Sri Lankan security forces was far from satisfactory. By then, the LTTE had developed the Sea Tiger wing – a daring guerilla navy that played havoc with the Sri Lanka Navy. The Sri Lanka Army had suffered heavy casualties in defending Mullaithivu and suffered a huge setback in Elephant Pass despite its superior strength and firepower. In that operation, the LTTE acquired its modern artillery, armour and high-tech communication systems apart from capturing equipment.
At the start of the peace process, the security forces were a demoralised lot. The terms of the peace process further added to their misery as it prevented them from retaliating when the LTTE’s pistol groups systematically eliminated the forces’ intelligence operatives and killed even military commanders during the first three years of peace. In this backdrop, no one was sure of the ability of Sri Lanka’s forces to sustain an offensive against the LTTE when Eelam War IV started in 2006.
Even after the LTTE defeat in Mavil Aru in the Eastern Province in July 2006, the security forces were cautious in their optimism. However, the LTTE belied the defence analysts’ expectations when it floundered in the Eastern Province, offering stiff resistance only in patches. Perhaps, it was at this time that Rajapaksa and Fonseka made up their minds to go the whole hog against the LTTE in the north.
Although Prabakaran has demonstrated strategic military capability in the past, he appears to have failed to draw two obvious strategic deductions in the developing war scenario, which put the LTTE at a disadvantage. The first was not factoring the impact of the defection of Karuna, his able military commander from Batticaloa, on the LTTE’s overall military capability. The second was in underestimating the determination of Sri Lanka’s political and military leadership to turn Rajapaksa’s promise to eliminate the LTTE into a reality.Prabakaran never made any effort to patch up with Karuna, who had grievances with respect to the poor representation of easterners in the leadership although they provided the bulk of the LTTE cadre. Instead, he dispatched killers to eliminate Karuna. The rebel leader commanded wide support among cadre in the east, particularly around LTTE strongholds in Batticaloa. A direct consequence of his defection was the disbanding of a bulk of LTTE cadre, other than Karuna’s core supporters. It also drove Karuna into the arms of the Sri Lanka Army for protection. So when the war started in the east, the LTTE’s strength as well as its manoeuvring space was reduced.
In the course of time, recruitment from the east to augment LTTE strength petered out. Ultimately, when the security forces launched their offensive in the north with huge numerical superiority, the LTTE did not have the essential strength to face the onslaught. It was clear that the LTTE would not be able halt the security forces by conventional warfare.
However, somehow Prabakaran failed to use his superior insurgency tactics to overcome his limitations in conventional warfare. Instead, the LTTE adopted a passive defensive strategy with a line of bunds that reduced the natural advantage of guerilla mobility enjoyed by the cadre. The bunds imposed a limited delay as they required heavy firepower to break up the offensive. This was a luxury that the LTTE did not enjoy.
The second aspect was the LTTE leader’s failure to read the mind of Rajapaksa. In his first two years in office, the President had oriented his entire policy framework towards the goal of eliminating the LTTE. His strong support to the operations of the security forces, regardless of national and international compulsions, enabled the Army chief to plan and execute his offensive.
SENA VIDANAGAMA/AFP
Karuna (right) speaking to women LTTE fighters in Batticaloa district on Women’s Day in March 2004. Prabakaran failed to take into account the impact of Karuna’s defection from the LTTE on its overall military capability.
His strategic direction of war, operational planning and neat execution undoubtedly paved the way for success. In the words of Lieutenant General Satish Nambiar, the distinguished Indian Army officer, Fonseka “displayed the qualities of a great military leader nations are blessed with from time to time”. In short, under Fonseka’s leadership, the demoralised armed forces reinvented themselves to become a well-knit and highly motivated force.
As a result, when the security forces went to war in 2006, they were well-trained and enjoyed superiority in firepower and mobility. Learning from the past, they built up force levels on land, in the air and at sea to ensure success against the Tamil Tigers. The Sri Lanka Army went on a recruiting spree. For instance, in the year 2008 alone 40,000 troops were added, to raise 47 infantry battalions, 13 brigades, four task force contingents and two divisions. The Army now has 13 divisions, three task forces and one armoured brigade. Evidently, Prabakaran failed to read the sea change taking place in the capabilities of the security forces and adapt his tactics. Instead, he stuck to a conventional warfare mode that was doomed to fail although it inflicted casualties on the advancing troops.
Fonseka adopted a multi-pronged strategy to split the defending Tamil Tiger ranks and keep them guessing. It aimed at pinning down the LTTE at the forward-defended localities astride the Kandy-Jaffna A-9 road in the north from Kilali-Muhamalai-Nagarkovil and in the south along the Palamoddai-Omanthai line. This prevented the LTTE from thinning out the troops to reinforce its defences along other axes.
Offensives along two broad axes were launched: along the Mannar-Pooneryn/Jaffna A-32 road on the west coast to block LTTE access to Tamil Nadu through the Mannar Sea and along the Welioya-Mullaithivu-Puthukudiyiruppu line on the east coast. Operations on these axes progressively cut off the external supply of military equipment and essential goods to the LTTE by sea. In tandem with ground operations, the Sri Lanka Navy progressively curtailed the freedom of movement of Sea Tiger boats and prevented LTTE shipments from reaching the Sri Lanka coast. In well-planned raids in international waters, the Navy destroyed eight ships of the LTTE’s tramp supply shipping fleet in 2006-07.
Despite faltering steps at times, the security forces maintained the momentum of their offensive in the north from the second half of 2007, which culminated in the dramatic capture in January 2009 of Kilinochchi, the so-called administrative capital of the LTTE. This capture contributed largely to the rapid advance of the security forces in areas east of the A-9 axis, which never gave the withdrawing LTTE a respite or permitted it to deliver a strong counterstroke.
In the present Eelam war, except for a short-lived surprise offensive in the Jaffna peninsula in the early stages of the confrontation in the north, the LTTE was never able to launch proactively a major offensive or a sizable counteroffensive against the security forces that would have turned the course of the war.
The LTTE strategy of carting off all the civilians from captured areas to areas under its control after the fall of Kilinochchi is questionable. This reactive defence strategy affected the mobility of cadre, pinning them down to static defences rather than allowing them to adopt a resilient mobile withdrawal strategy. This strategy neither prevented the security forces from using their heavy weapons or air force nor vindicated the LTTE’s use of civilians as human shields. It only generated adverse publicity, and that the security forces were also blamed for the same callousness in dealing with ordinary people is no consolation as they have emerged as victors.
The performance of the LTTE in Eelam War IV glaringly displayed Prabakaran’s limitations in mastering the art of conventional warfare. As he is an astute military leader, if he survives the current ordeal, he will put on his thinking cap to reinvent the LTTE, just as Fonseka reinvented the security forces when he took on the monumental task of reviving them and leading them to war.•
Colonel R. Hariharan is a retired Military Intelligence specialist on South Asia and served as the head of intelligence of the Indian Peace Keeping Force in Sri Lanka 1987-90.
E-mail: colhari@yahoo.com
Friday, April 24, 2009
Srilankan Conflict
The legendry poet Bharathi told "Imayathil oruvan iruminal , kumariyil irunthu oruvan Marunthu kondu sella vendum endru".. In that day itself he had broad vision of helping other people instead of races..
But today our own people are killed by bullets & bombs of srilankan army people.. I remembering Bharathi's lines
"நெஞ்சு பொறுக்குதில்லையே
நெஞ்சு பொறுக்குதில்லையே - இந்த
நிலைகெட்ட மனிதரை நினைந்துவிட்டால்
கொஞ்சமோ பிரிவினைகள் - ஒரு
கோடியென் றாலது பெரிதாமோ ?
அஞ்சுதலைப் பாம்பென்பான் - அப்பன்
ஆறுதலை யென்றுமகன் சொல்லிவிட்டால்
நெஞ்சு பிரிந்து விடுவார் - பின்பு
நெடுநா ளிருவரும் பகைத்திருப்பார் (நெஞ்சு)சாத்திரங்க ளொன்றும் காணார் - பொய்ச்
சாத்திரப் பேய்கள்சொலும் வார்த்தைநம்பியே
கோத்திரமொன் யிருந்தாலும் - ஒரு
கொள்கையிற் பிரிந்தவனைக் குலைத்திகழ்வார்
தோத்திரங்கள் சொல்லியவர்தாம் - தமைச்
சூதுசெயு நீசர்களைப் பணிந்திடுவார் - ஆனால்
ஆத்திரங் கொண்டே யிவன் சைவன் - இவன்
அரிபக்த னென்றுபெருஞ் சண்டையிடுவார் (நெஞ்சு) எண்ணிலா நோயுடையார் - இவர்
எழுந்து நடப்பதற்கும் வலிமையிலார்
கண்ணிலாக் குழந்தைகள்போல் - பிறர்
காட்டிய வழியிற் சென்று மாட்டிக் கொள்வார்
நண்ணிய பெருங்கலைகள் - பத்து
நாலாயிரங் கோடி நயந்து நின்ற
புண்ணிய நாட்டினிலே - இவர்
பொறியற்ற விலங்குகள் போல வாழ்வார் (நெஞ்சு) "
We are silent watchers of this mass genocide.. This political people are playing the game for their own benefits.. Is this cowardice gene we inherited from our ancient Tamils? Where are we? When we are going to unite for our cause?
Andru "Mullaiukku ther kudutha.. " Pari vallal indru irunthirunthal.. em makkaluku oru nal vazhvai kuduthirupan..
Ippothu Nadalbavarkalo "spectrum oozhal, black money.. swiz bank.. Posts for family members" endru busy'aga ullanar.
Tamil mannan Cholanin kodi parantha rajiyathil.. indru Tamilanin kuruthi neethikaagavum.. uravukaagavum.. yengi kondirikirathu..
What kind of justice we can tell to our died brothers & sisters as a silent watchers? Atleast we will unite here after & give our shoulders for surviving people..
" Vallamai tharayo parasakthi .. "
But today our own people are killed by bullets & bombs of srilankan army people.. I remembering Bharathi's lines
"நெஞ்சு பொறுக்குதில்லையே
நெஞ்சு பொறுக்குதில்லையே - இந்த
நிலைகெட்ட மனிதரை நினைந்துவிட்டால்
கொஞ்சமோ பிரிவினைகள் - ஒரு
கோடியென் றாலது பெரிதாமோ ?
அஞ்சுதலைப் பாம்பென்பான் - அப்பன்
ஆறுதலை யென்றுமகன் சொல்லிவிட்டால்
நெஞ்சு பிரிந்து விடுவார் - பின்பு
நெடுநா ளிருவரும் பகைத்திருப்பார் (நெஞ்சு)சாத்திரங்க ளொன்றும் காணார் - பொய்ச்
சாத்திரப் பேய்கள்சொலும் வார்த்தைநம்பியே
கோத்திரமொன் யிருந்தாலும் - ஒரு
கொள்கையிற் பிரிந்தவனைக் குலைத்திகழ்வார்
தோத்திரங்கள் சொல்லியவர்தாம் - தமைச்
சூதுசெயு நீசர்களைப் பணிந்திடுவார் - ஆனால்
ஆத்திரங் கொண்டே யிவன் சைவன் - இவன்
அரிபக்த னென்றுபெருஞ் சண்டையிடுவார் (நெஞ்சு) எண்ணிலா நோயுடையார் - இவர்
எழுந்து நடப்பதற்கும் வலிமையிலார்
கண்ணிலாக் குழந்தைகள்போல் - பிறர்
காட்டிய வழியிற் சென்று மாட்டிக் கொள்வார்
நண்ணிய பெருங்கலைகள் - பத்து
நாலாயிரங் கோடி நயந்து நின்ற
புண்ணிய நாட்டினிலே - இவர்
பொறியற்ற விலங்குகள் போல வாழ்வார் (நெஞ்சு) "
We are silent watchers of this mass genocide.. This political people are playing the game for their own benefits.. Is this cowardice gene we inherited from our ancient Tamils? Where are we? When we are going to unite for our cause?
Andru "Mullaiukku ther kudutha.. " Pari vallal indru irunthirunthal.. em makkaluku oru nal vazhvai kuduthirupan..
Ippothu Nadalbavarkalo "spectrum oozhal, black money.. swiz bank.. Posts for family members" endru busy'aga ullanar.
Tamil mannan Cholanin kodi parantha rajiyathil.. indru Tamilanin kuruthi neethikaagavum.. uravukaagavum.. yengi kondirikirathu..
What kind of justice we can tell to our died brothers & sisters as a silent watchers? Atleast we will unite here after & give our shoulders for surviving people..
" Vallamai tharayo parasakthi .. "
Friday, December 5, 2008
NDA buddies remember Sandeep Unnikrishnan
When the name Sandeep Unnikrishnan was mentioned among the NSG casualties on Friday, there was a sinking feeling in my gut. Was it our
Unni? But then, in the forces, you cannot even pray that it is "some other Unni". Within minutes, confirmation came. An old buddy called up to say, "Yaar, Sandeep is no more."
Unni had died a hero. And those of us who had seen him and trained alongside him at the National Defence Academy (NDA) had a rush of old memories - of a buddy who would stick with you no matter what, of a top-class sportsman, of nostalgic songs and imaginary girlfriends and of a soldier's soldier who was always aware that the uniform came with great responsibility.
In 1995, we were a bunch of gangly 18-year-olds, wondering what the hell we were doing climbing up Sinhgad fort on a miserable, rainy day, when I first met Unni. He was an ikki, a first termer, bone-weary, but always gung-ho. When we made it to the top, the first stop was for a fill of water. Soggy, bushed and thirsty, we ran to the natural spring that has been feeding soldiers since the days of Chhatrapati Shivaji. Unni was the first to reach and started drawing water from the well. We lined up with our canteens, but a tourist first held out her water bottle. Unni filled it. Then, another. Unni filled that too.
Within seconds, there was a long line of tourists waiting for water. Without a word - and with a smile to us - Unni dutifully doled out his generosity. He never got to us. He himself never got a sip. The order came to move on.
It was a small, selfless act. Who knew that 13 years on, he would make the ultimate sacrifice - lead from the front and die saving a fellow commando? He lived up to the "Olympian" spirit (as NDA Oscar Squadron cadets call themselves), striving to go "faster, higher, and stronger".
"He was not meant to be in the Mumbai operation. He was an instructor at the NSG training centre in Manesar. But because he was an old hand at this, and one of the best, he was sent as part of the first reaction team," said Major Sushil, one his coursemates. I couldn't imagine the rather skinny Unni in the NSG. But just as his happy-go-lucky face masked a ruthless and determined soldier, so did his thin physique hide a tough, never-give-up spirit.
"It showed itself during Camps Greenhorn and Rovers (said to be the toughest for the age group) at NDA. He never knew the word 'quit'. He just kept going," recalled one of his buddies now in the Special Forces. "During the 15-km cross-country races at NDA, there would be shouts of 'Unni, Unni' in the last 500 metres. Most of us were dead by then. But he would tuck his head into his chest, close his eyes and run for his life, for his squadron."
It was this ruggedness - and a great sense of humour - that helped him survive three tours of Kashmir, two stints in Siachen and the tough NSG training.
"The army was his life. In his room in Bangalore, he had a collage of photographs of each of his coursemates and from life in the NDA. He took it everywhere with him," said major S Kaul. "He was always very calm and composed. We ex-NDAs have a short fuse but I never saw Unni angry."
"He was a total movie maniac. In civvies, he didn't look a commando. Whenever anyone asked him what his profession was, he would say, 'non-productive human resources'. He could speak five languages and he just loved to give gaali in all five," recalled major Naren C.
"We always ribbed him about his nonexistent, rippling biceps. But he surprised us all by joining the NSG. He was always a fighter. I cannot believe that he is no more. Only a few weeks ago, he had joked, 'Finally, I am putting on some weight'."
Unni? But then, in the forces, you cannot even pray that it is "some other Unni". Within minutes, confirmation came. An old buddy called up to say, "Yaar, Sandeep is no more."
Unni had died a hero. And those of us who had seen him and trained alongside him at the National Defence Academy (NDA) had a rush of old memories - of a buddy who would stick with you no matter what, of a top-class sportsman, of nostalgic songs and imaginary girlfriends and of a soldier's soldier who was always aware that the uniform came with great responsibility.
In 1995, we were a bunch of gangly 18-year-olds, wondering what the hell we were doing climbing up Sinhgad fort on a miserable, rainy day, when I first met Unni. He was an ikki, a first termer, bone-weary, but always gung-ho. When we made it to the top, the first stop was for a fill of water. Soggy, bushed and thirsty, we ran to the natural spring that has been feeding soldiers since the days of Chhatrapati Shivaji. Unni was the first to reach and started drawing water from the well. We lined up with our canteens, but a tourist first held out her water bottle. Unni filled it. Then, another. Unni filled that too.
Within seconds, there was a long line of tourists waiting for water. Without a word - and with a smile to us - Unni dutifully doled out his generosity. He never got to us. He himself never got a sip. The order came to move on.
It was a small, selfless act. Who knew that 13 years on, he would make the ultimate sacrifice - lead from the front and die saving a fellow commando? He lived up to the "Olympian" spirit (as NDA Oscar Squadron cadets call themselves), striving to go "faster, higher, and stronger".
"He was not meant to be in the Mumbai operation. He was an instructor at the NSG training centre in Manesar. But because he was an old hand at this, and one of the best, he was sent as part of the first reaction team," said Major Sushil, one his coursemates. I couldn't imagine the rather skinny Unni in the NSG. But just as his happy-go-lucky face masked a ruthless and determined soldier, so did his thin physique hide a tough, never-give-up spirit.
"It showed itself during Camps Greenhorn and Rovers (said to be the toughest for the age group) at NDA. He never knew the word 'quit'. He just kept going," recalled one of his buddies now in the Special Forces. "During the 15-km cross-country races at NDA, there would be shouts of 'Unni, Unni' in the last 500 metres. Most of us were dead by then. But he would tuck his head into his chest, close his eyes and run for his life, for his squadron."
It was this ruggedness - and a great sense of humour - that helped him survive three tours of Kashmir, two stints in Siachen and the tough NSG training.
"The army was his life. In his room in Bangalore, he had a collage of photographs of each of his coursemates and from life in the NDA. He took it everywhere with him," said major S Kaul. "He was always very calm and composed. We ex-NDAs have a short fuse but I never saw Unni angry."
"He was a total movie maniac. In civvies, he didn't look a commando. Whenever anyone asked him what his profession was, he would say, 'non-productive human resources'. He could speak five languages and he just loved to give gaali in all five," recalled major Naren C.
"We always ribbed him about his nonexistent, rippling biceps. But he surprised us all by joining the NSG. He was always a fighter. I cannot believe that he is no more. Only a few weeks ago, he had joked, 'Finally, I am putting on some weight'."
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Why did NSG take 9 hrs to get there?
The terrorists strike Mumbai at 9.30pm. Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh is in Kerala. He is briefed about the attack on the city’s
prime locations. By the time Deshmukh grasps the enormity of the situation, 90 minutes have gone by.
He rings Union home minister Shivraj Patil at 11pm and asks for NSG commandos. "How many men?" Patil asks. "200," says the CM. Patil calls NSG chief J K Dutt and tells him to send 200 battle-ready commandos to Mumbai.
When NSG Men ready for their game, it is discovered that the only plane that can take 200 men, the IL 76, is not in Delhi but Chandigarh. Precious minutes are ticking by.
The IL 76 pilot is woken, the plane refuelled. It reaches Delhi at 2am. By the time the commandos get in and the plane takes off, four-and-a-half hours have elapsed. Experts say that unless a response is mounted within 30 minutes of an attack, the enemy can assume key defensive positions.
It takes the aircraft almost three hours to land at Mumbai airport. Unlike the Boeing and Airbus, IL 76 is a slow plane. By the time the NSG commandos board the waiting buses it is 5.25am.
The buses take another 40 minutes to reach the designated place in south Mumbai where the commandos are briefed, divided into different groups and sent out on their mission.
By the time they start their operation, it is 7am — in other words, nine-and-a-half hours after the terror strike.
Many lives might have been saved had this delay not happened. The obvious question is why is the NSG stationed only in Delhi. When Indian cities are vulnerable to terror attacks, why is there no commando force like the NSG, or its units, in other region commands?
prime locations. By the time Deshmukh grasps the enormity of the situation, 90 minutes have gone by.
He rings Union home minister Shivraj Patil at 11pm and asks for NSG commandos. "How many men?" Patil asks. "200," says the CM. Patil calls NSG chief J K Dutt and tells him to send 200 battle-ready commandos to Mumbai.
When NSG Men ready for their game, it is discovered that the only plane that can take 200 men, the IL 76, is not in Delhi but Chandigarh. Precious minutes are ticking by.
The IL 76 pilot is woken, the plane refuelled. It reaches Delhi at 2am. By the time the commandos get in and the plane takes off, four-and-a-half hours have elapsed. Experts say that unless a response is mounted within 30 minutes of an attack, the enemy can assume key defensive positions.
It takes the aircraft almost three hours to land at Mumbai airport. Unlike the Boeing and Airbus, IL 76 is a slow plane. By the time the NSG commandos board the waiting buses it is 5.25am.
The buses take another 40 minutes to reach the designated place in south Mumbai where the commandos are briefed, divided into different groups and sent out on their mission.
By the time they start their operation, it is 7am — in other words, nine-and-a-half hours after the terror strike.
Many lives might have been saved had this delay not happened. The obvious question is why is the NSG stationed only in Delhi. When Indian cities are vulnerable to terror attacks, why is there no commando force like the NSG, or its units, in other region commands?
Deadly delay in calling the marine commandos
A disturbing truth is emanating from the 60-hour terror ordeal that left Mumbai angry and a nation stunned. The word is out that the marine commandos, better known as the Marcos, could have been called much earlier.
Indecision on the part of the state authorities delayed the operation of the naval special forces, according to official sources familiar with the situation.
A senior state police official called the Naval headquarters at Mumbai, asking for help, about an hour after the first round of gunfire. But it is believed that there was no formal request made for bringing in the Marcos. In fact, sources said, the concerned police official had initially told the Naval authorities, “We may need your help.” Only the state chief secretary has the formal authority to call in the Marcos.
What transpired between the police and the state administration is not known but by the time a formal request was put in, it was close to 2 am, according to these sources.
To make matters worse, when the Marcos reached the Taj there was no one to brief them. “They entered the Taj with absolutely no co-ordinates, no layout plan of the building, no briefing from any high ranking police official. The Taj is definitely not a place that jawans or officers visit on a daily basis. The could not afford to delay either since they could not afford to lose any more time in bringing the situation under control,” said sources on conditions of anonymity.
While the state had made the decision to call in the Army on late Wednesday evening, after the magnitude of the situation became clearer, implementation was slow. The National Security Guard (NSG) commandos had to be flown in from Delhi and were deployed on Thursday morning around 7 AM on Thursday morning. There have also been questions over what seems to be delays in the deployment of the NSG. But in case of NSG, they had to be flown in from Delhi.
In contrast the Marcos are located close to Mumbai, at Karanja, near Alibaug, and could have been deployed earlier, sources said.
No one knows how many more lives could have been saved if the Marcos had been called in immediately. On Saturday evening, the official toll released by the home ministry stood at 183-141 Indian civilians, 22 foreigners and 20 security personnel. The number though is expected to rise above 200 as the search is still on for some missing guests.
It’s also now surfaced that the terrorists were planning to kill thousands in Mumbai.
The terrorists had stockpiled enough ammunition for the task, including eight kilos of extremely potent RDX. At some point towards the end of the NSG operation, the terrorists lost their nerve and began arguing amongst themselves.
According to security sources, one of them was willing to surrender, while the other two were bent on a fight to the death. One of the terrorists even tried to negotiate his way to surrender. “But that was quite a risk. From earlier experiences we knew it could have been a trap,” said a security officer.
All the four terrorists in the Taj were eventually killed by the NSG in Operation Cyclone which ended around 8am on Saturday morning. The sources said all the four terrorists had posted themselves at important check points on different floors. They were keeping in touch through intercom and cell phones belonging to the hostages.
Two terrorists were gunned down by the NSG commandos on Friday while one was killed on Saturday morning around 3 am. The last of the terrorists was finally felled around 8am.
The bodies of the terrorists have been sent to the JJ Hospital for autopsy.
Indecision on the part of the state authorities delayed the operation of the naval special forces, according to official sources familiar with the situation.
A senior state police official called the Naval headquarters at Mumbai, asking for help, about an hour after the first round of gunfire. But it is believed that there was no formal request made for bringing in the Marcos. In fact, sources said, the concerned police official had initially told the Naval authorities, “We may need your help.” Only the state chief secretary has the formal authority to call in the Marcos.
What transpired between the police and the state administration is not known but by the time a formal request was put in, it was close to 2 am, according to these sources.
To make matters worse, when the Marcos reached the Taj there was no one to brief them. “They entered the Taj with absolutely no co-ordinates, no layout plan of the building, no briefing from any high ranking police official. The Taj is definitely not a place that jawans or officers visit on a daily basis. The could not afford to delay either since they could not afford to lose any more time in bringing the situation under control,” said sources on conditions of anonymity.
While the state had made the decision to call in the Army on late Wednesday evening, after the magnitude of the situation became clearer, implementation was slow. The National Security Guard (NSG) commandos had to be flown in from Delhi and were deployed on Thursday morning around 7 AM on Thursday morning. There have also been questions over what seems to be delays in the deployment of the NSG. But in case of NSG, they had to be flown in from Delhi.
In contrast the Marcos are located close to Mumbai, at Karanja, near Alibaug, and could have been deployed earlier, sources said.
No one knows how many more lives could have been saved if the Marcos had been called in immediately. On Saturday evening, the official toll released by the home ministry stood at 183-141 Indian civilians, 22 foreigners and 20 security personnel. The number though is expected to rise above 200 as the search is still on for some missing guests.
It’s also now surfaced that the terrorists were planning to kill thousands in Mumbai.
The terrorists had stockpiled enough ammunition for the task, including eight kilos of extremely potent RDX. At some point towards the end of the NSG operation, the terrorists lost their nerve and began arguing amongst themselves.
According to security sources, one of them was willing to surrender, while the other two were bent on a fight to the death. One of the terrorists even tried to negotiate his way to surrender. “But that was quite a risk. From earlier experiences we knew it could have been a trap,” said a security officer.
All the four terrorists in the Taj were eventually killed by the NSG in Operation Cyclone which ended around 8am on Saturday morning. The sources said all the four terrorists had posted themselves at important check points on different floors. They were keeping in touch through intercom and cell phones belonging to the hostages.
Two terrorists were gunned down by the NSG commandos on Friday while one was killed on Saturday morning around 3 am. The last of the terrorists was finally felled around 8am.
The bodies of the terrorists have been sent to the JJ Hospital for autopsy.
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