The old-timers, who are surprised by Aziz’s unprecedented descriptions of reluctant fighters and an over-eager, despotic leader in Musharraf, must note that his account is consistent with the expansion of the debate about military matters. It does eventually lead to Kargil, where Musharraf is shown to have humiliated the country with his arbitrary adventurism against India. Also part of the power equation in Kargil is an old rival of the military, a politician in the person of the then-prime minister, Nawaz Sharif. Aziz corroborates the assertion that only a few close associates of Musharraf knew about the disastrous Kargil operation. He also comes closest to showing sympathy for a politician by saying that he couldn’t quite tell whether Sharif knew about the wasteful Kargil operation or not.
Aziz is ultimately a soldier. He is anti-Kargil but not anti-war. At one place in the story, a young army officer is seen to be realising the true worth of human life as he lies underneath bodies on a battlefield. But if war and dying soldiers called for some kind of a revolution in thinking, it did not happen. Aziz is more concerned about how wars should be fought rather than allowing his reformative train to reach the point where he is compelled to question warfare as a legitimate way of conflict resolution. He mourns the tragic loss of life at Kargil and expresses regret at an incident in which gunfire ordered by him killed a woman and a child across the border. But even amid this exhibition of emotion, Aziz appears to retain his killing instincts and recalls that in the wake of Kargil he had at one point advised the army chief to expand the war.
The crisp tone of Yeh Khamoshi Kahaan Takk? can be compared with media interviews of former army officers. But since the book is inevitably going to be looked upon as a prologue to a political manifesto in the making, the lieutenant general follows the current regime of critical introspection and system-rejection in a more profound and consistent way so as to, apparently, justify his claim. This has won Aziz the audience, if not as yet as large a readership as the book may have initially promised.
The book has garnered mixed reviews. One reviewer has dismissed Aziz’s attempt as a long apology. To be fair, Yeh Khamoshi Kahaan Takk? is more than an apology because it does serve the purpose of expanding the discussion on the workings of the military, specifically the army high command, which so vitally controls the Pakistani people, and the military leadership’s relationship with civilian incumbents.
Another reviewer expressed surprise at a soldier’s ability to treat him to some excellent Urdu prose. It could be that the reviewer had committed himself to evaluating the work a bit too early. Had he waited till the end of the book to form his judgement he would have seen the narrative get more than a little repetitive. Towards the end the book appears to be a dreary and long-drawn-out job at justification, a justification directed at the public, and, more specifically, at the ranks, before the writer, the repentant sinner, finds refuge in religion.
Religion is one way of resolving the inner conflict — one that is frequently resorted to as the ultimate choice. At the end of these 400-odd pages, Aziz appears to be recommending this final recourse. He has displayed his credentials as a potential player should political parties be interested in enlisting reputable veterans, and, more importantly, experience-chastened hands. Meanwhile, other military men who shared the various experiences with him right up to Kargil and beyond should break their silence in the interest of greater clarity. The story does sound so much fuller every time someone adds a new dimension to it.
The reviewer is resident editor Dawn Lahore
Yeh Khamoshi Kahaan Takk? Aik Sipahi ki Dastan-i-Ishq-o-Junoon
(Memoirs)
By Lt Gen (retd) Shahid Aziz
Seven Springs Publishers, Islamabad
463pp. Rs800