Chandan Mitra

KPS Gill gave a one-line mantra to his boys: Kill before they kill you

If there is one person in contemporary history who truly deserved the Bharat Ratna, the highest civilian honour, it was Kanwar Pal Singh Gill, the icon of India’s war on terrorism in Punjab. He pulled the frontier State back from the brink through his resolute leadership and nationalist commitment. Although idolised by most, the usual section of ingrates hounded him in his later years, castigating his methods to subdue an insurrection that threatened to tear India apart.

After a glorious career as Director-General of Police in Assam where he contained rising militancy in the early 1980s, Gill was drafted to handle Punjab which had become almost unmanageable due to the blood-splattered legacy of Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale. When other highly decorated officers including JF Ribeiro failed to control things, Gill was inducted as DGP to instill morale and courage back in the Punjab Police which had virtually surrendered to the terrorists. With his impressive tall frame, deep set steel-grey eyes and eloquently waxed moustache, the Jat Sikh officer took on a growing number of Sikh youth gone astray in pursuit of the insane goal of Khalistan.

Gill gave a one-line mantra to his boys: Kill before they kill you. He also used unorthodox methods like holding families of terrorists hostage to force them to come overground. Always leading from the front, he put his faith in young officers and promoted them to commanding positions, brushing aside bureaucratic objections. He always kept in direct touch with SPs in terror-infested districts, calling them up at night to ask for the day’s score, that is, the number of terrorists they had eliminated. In the process, Gill Sahib made many enemies, more among IAS officers than politicians, for they hated his guts.

Frustrated by the lower judiciary which failed to convict wanted terrorists because witnesses were petrified to testify, he extensively authorised encounters to liquidate enemies of the nation. Some of his handpicked warriors were often harassed by bleeding heart “liberals” who were not inclined to recognise the seriousness of the secessionist challenge to India’s unity. In the early 90s, Punjab had been repressed under a ghostly silence; the happy-go-lucky Sardarji was forced to cower under the barrel of the Khalistanis’ gun, while many Hindus fled Punjab in a second wave of migration after Independence.

Buses and trains were unsafe and at one point some newspapers had to be delivered under police escort. Restaurants shut before sundown, cinema halls abandoned night shows.

Various terrorist outfits with colourful names sprouted with the monetary and material support of Pakistan. Most of these were led by Gill’s own Jat Sikh community, but he was unflinching in his devotion to his uniform. Only when the last and most lethal of terror merchants the Babbar Khalsa disintegrated after the killing of its leader Sukhdev Babbar in 1993, did Gill heave a sigh of relief. He celebrated by organizing a cultural extravaganza in Amritsar starring Shilpa Shetty which continued till 2 am in a city where streets would be deserted by early evening.

The religious leadership of the Sikhs, safely ensconced inside the Golden Temple complex, tried to mount many hurdles with the backing of misguided woolly-headed liberals. But Gill paid scant attention to their shenanigans. Even at the height of militancy with guns blazing all around, Gill never lost his equipoise, reading his favourite English novelists and reciting Urdu poetry penned by Sahir Ludhianvi and Nida Fazli.

In an interview in 1995, he had famously remarked: “I think I have worked myself out of a job”. He indeed had. Although he was engaged as a consultant first in the post-2002 Gujarat and later in Chhattisgarh by then Home Minister LK Advani, Gill could never be comfortable unless he was hands on and leading from the front. But fighting terrorism in all its manifestations, including at an intellectual plane, was an article of faith with him and he did that to his dying day.

Having known him at close quarters while reporting on Punjab for different publications between 1987 and 1993, I believe that without him Punjab would have been lost to India and that would have marked the beginning of the country’s disintegration. He richly deserved the Bharat Ratna, for he was indeed a shining jewel in India’s firmament.

Courtesy: Pioneer: Chandan Mitra : Saturday, 27 May 2017