Such arbitrary moves engender a backlash, especially among veterans, who are the backbone of the services.
THE ‘decolonisation’ of India’s military in the ongoing ‘Amrit Kaal’, as decreed by the BJP-led Central Government, continues apace. At the recently concluded biannual Indian Navy (IN) commanders’ conference in New Delhi, there were deliberations on sundry operational matters and on incorporating the hitherto proscribed kurta-pyjama as an accepted dress form in naval messes, wardrooms, official establishments and on formal occasions.
Astonishingly, the IN displayed possible variations of its proposed dress at the three-day conference for approval by Minister of State for Defence Ajay Bhatt; it included a mannequin exhibiting a shorter kurti, worn under a waistcoat, and a drainpipe pyjama. A cross-section of naval veterans concerned concurred that it was merely a matter of time before kurta-pyjama, in some configuration, joined the IN’s formal couture alongside lounge and Jodhpuri suits and the striking ‘Red Sea’ rig, comprising black trousers, half-sleeve white shirt with rank-stripe epaulettes, black shoes and socks and cummerbunds of the same colour.
In recent months, the IN has taken the lead over the other two services in shedding its colonial mantle, in keeping with the government’s goal of securing atmanirbharta or indigenisation in the armed forces, not only with regard to their materiel, but also their dress codes, rituals and traditions.
The Indian Army was established by the East India Company in the 18th and 19th centuries, while the Royal Indian Navy (RIN) and the Royal Indian Air Force (RIAF) came into being in 1934 and 1932, respectively, becoming the IN and the IAF after Independence. Understandably, all three embraced and, over decades, perpetuated many of their progenitors’ hoary customs, conventions and practices which, in most instances, constitute the bedrock of most of the world’s militaries.
But such indulgences are apparently anathema to the government. Consequently, in July the IN discontinued the Royal Navy (RN) practice of its senior officers carrying batons on the grounds, saying that it did not suit the ‘transformed Navy of Amrit Kaal’. This was done shortly after its ensign or flag was indigenised and shorn of its colonial antecedents that had featured the blood-red Cross of St George for decades. Concurrently, the Navy also got a new atmanirbhar President’s Standard and Colour and a revised desi crest.
Grizzled navalists conceded that the IN, of all the country’s three services, had, because of its founding antecedents, many commonalities with the RN, not only in operational, logistic and doctrinal procedures, but also in its maritime mores, outlook and even superstitions. Over decades, the Navy’s overriding modus vivendi and ambience continued to overtly display RN influences handed down by succeeding generations of officers. In fact, many RN officers visiting IN ships and establishments invariably found the atmosphere ‘quaintly’ English, right down to the drinks, cocktails and fare served in wardrooms, which often included roasted mutton, papadams and sweet mango chutney.
Alongside, the Indian Army’s Adjutant General branch, too, has embarked on ending ‘archaic and antiquated’ colonial traditions, dress codes, pipe and drum bands, colour presentations and investiture ceremonies. Affiliation of units with those in foreign armies it had fought alongside in the two World Wars, caste and ethnically specific regiments raised by the British, such as Sikh, Gurkha, Jat and Rajput, amongst a myriad others, were also likely to be discontinued for their colonial overhang. So were some Army insignias featuring British associations and symbols and institutes and roads in Indian cantonments named after English soldiers who had served the Empire in India and in other colonial outposts and wars.
Also likely to be scrapped in the Army is the long-established British tradition of appointing one-star officers and above as ‘honorary colonels’, or ‘eminence grise’ to their former battalions or regiments, in recognition of their services and experience. These appointments were akin to those of an ‘agony aunt’ for the unit and doing away with them, many veterans agreed, would only deprive the battalion of well-wishers who were often problem-solvers.
Furthermore, the Army’s eight-odd regulation officers’ uniform too is likely to undergo an atmanirbharta ‘revision’, with the more fancy and colourful ones, with English overtones, either being done away with or localised. These include the dashing blue patrols, the ceremonial winter uniform that comprises a black bandgala coat with gleaming silver-colour buttons, with each wearer’s rank elaborately embroidered on the shoulders, and similarly coloured trousers.
But one facet that has surprisingly escaped the atmanirbharta tsunami and remained truly foreign in its entirety are the nicknames of the fighter, transport and helicopter squadrons of the three services. These monikers smacked of undiluted colonial influence, and consequently were ripe targets for either being rechristened with indigenous names, or subjected to direct but complex translations into Sanskrit, much like the IAF’s catchy but dense squadron mottos.
Nicknames for IAF squadrons included Tigers and Wolfpack (Mirage-2000Hs), Winged Arrows (Su-30MKIs), First Supersonics (MiG-29Ms), Flaming Arrows (SEPECAT Jaguars), Flying Daggers (LCA Tejas), Skylords (Boeing Globemaster C-17 IIIs), Veiled Vipers (C-130J-30s) and Armoured Kestrels (Mi-17V5 helicopters), to name just a few.
The IN, for its part, had White Tigers and Black Panthers (MiG-29K/KUBs), the Condors (P-8Is), Winged Stallions (IL-38s), and Kestrels (Dhruv MkIII Advanced Light Helicopters), amongst others, while the Army Aviation Corps had Night Raiders, Blazing Falcons and Soaring Gideons (Dhruv ALHs) alongside Destroyers (Rudra-ALH Weapons Systems Integrated).
However, while decolonising India’s cultural ethos and baggage is commendable, brutally purging historical ties can be counter-productive, especially for an institution like the military, for which tradition remains a sacrosanct lifeline. Such arbitrary moves also engender a backlash, especially amongst veterans, who are the backbone of the services and need a listening to. Besides, an august naval commanders’ conference in the prevailing precarious security environment seems hardly the forum to debate sartorial matters with dressmaker’s dummies in attendance; unless, of course, the endeavour was merely some good old English buffoonery.