Unlimited damage

A month after the devastating attacks in Mumbai, India’s patience appears to be running thin. Pakistan’s equivocation and its unwillingness firmly to crack down on terrorist groups have heightened New Delhi’s disquiet. Consequently, some former bureaucrats and military personnel, as well as media pundits, have energetically advocated conducting ‘limited military strikes’ across the Line of Control. ‘Surgical strikes’, we are told, could go a long way in destroying terrorist camps and infrastructure located in Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir. Precision munitions or ‘smart bombs’ would minimise the collateral damage, so making it clear that these attacks have been designed to target terrorist groups and not the Pakistani state. Surgical strikes are thus presented as a via media between disastrous war and debilitating peace.

However, past experiences demonstrate both the conceptual fallacy and the practical problems of this strategy.

The idea of a surgical strike was first considered by the United States during the Cuban missile crisis of October 1962. President John F Kennedy and many of his top political aides initially favoured air strikes restricted solely to the Soviet missile sites in Cuba. But the subsequent debates clarified that the use of air power would have to be more substantial than the euphemism ‘surgical’ suggested. For one thing, no strike could proceed without some suppression of enemy air defences. For another, the first round strikes might be insufficient to neutralise the targets: to ensure that the air strikes had accomplished their objective, repeated attacks might be necessary. For a third, aerial action might well have to be followed up by some form of ground invasion. Finally, and most importantly, if Russian personnel were killed, the Soviets might respond in force, resulting in serious escalation.

The advent of precision guided munitions has not obviated the difficulties of using limited air strikes to achieve political objectives. In October 2001, at the onset of military operations in Afghanistan, the Americans believed that precision munitions could destroy the Taliban’s infrastructure and reduce Al Qaeda to insignificance. Seven years down the line, British, American, Dutch, and Canadian troops in southern Afghanistan have begun to appreciate the fact that precision strikes are hardly surgical. Collateral damage is impossible to contain, and the delivery of fire power from the air has as much potential to fuel an insurgency as it does to flatten a target. Striking at the heart of the Taliban’s infrastructure in Kandahar has certainly not extinguished the Taliban. 

Israel’s campaign against Hezbollah in the summer of 2006 is another example. Faced with a barrage of Katyusha rockets, Israel decided to embark on an air campaign to disarm the Hezbollah. The latter, however, made good use of its networks of bunkers and tunnels to ride out Israeli air strikes. Besides, Hezbollah shifted to populated areas, making it harder for Israel to attack without causing civilian casualties. A frustrated Israeli government widened the air campaign, targeting Beirut and blockading the country, in the misplaced and vain hope that the Lebanese people would turn against the Hezbollah. Towards the end of the campaign, the Israelis had to undertake a ground incursion. Yet the Israeli government failed in achieving its objectives.

India’s own experience with the idea of limited air strikes underscores the key problems.  In 1981, the Indian government examined the feasibility of an air strike at Pakistan’s nuclear project in Kahuta. It concluded that while it might be possible to neutralise Kahuta, at least 50 per cent of the attacking force would be lost.

Furthermore, Pakistan would undoubtedly react, leading to a wider war. Interestingly, the Americans tipped off Pakistan. The Pakistanis, in turn, warned the Indians that if Kahuta was struck, they would hit Indian nuclear facilities in Trombay. In the event, Indira Gandhi resisted the temptations of a surgical strike. 

Indeed, any Indian attack will draw a proportionate response from Pakistan. The Pakistani army chief has openly stated as much. This would leave India to decide whether it wants to escalate further or pull back with resultant loss of face — both equally unattractive options. The pressure at that point would likely force New Delhi to raise the stakes; Pakistan will respond in kind. Escalation is, therefore, inherent in this situation.

The assumption that a surgical strike will enable India to pressurise Pakistan without risking war is gravely mistaken. John Kennedy’s advisor, McGeorge Bundy, put it well: a surgical strike, like all surgery, will be bloody, messy, and you will have to go back for more.   

Srinath Raghavan is associate fellow, National Institute of Advanced Studies, Bangalore; and Rudra Chaudhuri is research fellow at King’s College London.