Following the horrific militant strike on the Kaluchak army camp near
Jammu, pulp patriotism, like bad currency, is back in favour.


You could argue that it had never really gone away. With the eyes of
the world riveted on the post-Godhra `reaction' in Gujarat, it
required more than a lesson in Newtonian physics to keep one's head
high.


My country wrong but so what, sang the patriots. But there is nothing
like the hint of a war with an old adversary to shore up the sagging
spirit.


Come the moment, come the men. And, sadly, women too. In all shapes,
sizes and ideologies. But as in the old nationalist refrain — peace
be on Nehru — there's unity in diversity here.


On the experts' side, of course, there's scarcely a note of
disagreement. You can hear it everywhere: `Limited War' is the way
forward. It requires no sophisticated training in semantics to know
that the word `limited' is all important here.


For it is supposed to signify the expert's `expertise': Cool,
calculated, rational, in control. Among the politicians, more cheer-
leaders than leaders, there's greater bluster and machismo still.
Post-Pokhran, someone called it phallic nationalism.


And he was, as always, half-wrong. Did you not hear Amma's stirring
call for an all-out war? From what I know, war-roles didn't come
easily to Ms Jayalalithaa even in her earlier avatar as Tamil
cinema's leading lady, but you don't need to know a war — even of the
celluloid kind — to espouse one.


So long as patriotism rings true in your bosom. When the best are so
full of convictions, what's the big deal about the rest. From the
parivar, it fell to old Jana to demonstrate that age is no handicap
when it comes to passing the patriotism test. "We are even prepared
for a nuclear strike by Pakistan", he was quoted as saying.


Aptly enough, on the idiot box. I was probably conditioned to miss
the exact words, but the sentiment was unambiguous. The casual
insouciance of it brought terror to the heart. You could and no doubt
will ask: What are `we' meant to do?


Let the enemy bleed us to death? Show to the world that we are too
scared to fight our battles? Or, in the idiom favoured by
subcontinental rulers in times of crises, borrow feminine
accoutrements?


I accept there are no easy answers. But I am equally certain that
once you raise these questions in these terms, the only answers
you'll ever get will be of the kind you'd hear among street brawlers.
God help us, if the ultimate strategic questions of our times are
going to be decided on the basis of such facile interrogations.


A couple of days ago, I asked a leading strategic expert: "What
military objectives a limited war with Pakistan might achieve?" With
utmost respect, I have to say, I got no clear answer.


What is worse, I heard disturbing echoes of the same sexist
logic. "It will impose costs on the enemy", was his bottom line. Then
there was touching faith — if you could condone the profound irony —
in the enemy's ability to act rationally in all events. So when we
hit back in anger, he assured me, the enemy has no option but to sit
back and absorb the pain. Any other course would spell their ruin.


Never mind the huge imponderables, the rogue elements within ISI, the
disgruntled corps commanders, the fanatical jehadis and the fact that
pressing a button is all it will take...I wish we were playing a game
of poker.


And the irresistible itch to call the other's bluff was a legitimate
strategic move. I confess I have only a dim idea of how strategic
experts and decorated generals think. But based on my — admittedly
limited— first-hand knowledge of it, I am unable to rest easy. And I
am not talking of those from across the border but the professional,
home-grown ones. About the former, you only have to remember Kargil.


It was orchestrated, incidentally, by one such decorated soul, who
has since moved to the presidential palace in Islamabad. True, we are
answerable to the jawans who lost their near and dear ones at
Kaluchak. Truer still, we cannot allow terrorists to hold our society
to ransom. But can a war motivated by blind vengefulness or righteous
wrath achieve that? I doubt it.


So to the jawans and their families (and every other innocent man,
woman and child who has died, whether in Kashmir or Gujarat) let's
offer our heart-felt apologies and condolences. But, let's also find
the courage to admit, that much as we empathise with their pain and
sorrow, it would be wrong to commit them to a war that is sure to
bring yet more misery. That we must do something is no argument in
favour of doing something in which the risks might outweigh the
supposed `gains' by the proverbial mile.


I do not believe in war. But I believe even less in a war that cannot
be won. Of course, there is such a thing as a righteous war. But all
such wars belong to history. Or, better still, mythology.


The conditions for justifying a war in the new millennium have become
that much more stringent with the frightening advances in technology —
specifically nuclear technology — and our own greater sensitivity to
human suffering.