Friday 15 January 2016

Eyes Wide Shut/ IT Cover story January 25, 2016





Cover story: Counter terror farce

The Pathankot attack exposes the shocking vulnerabilities of India's premier counter-terrorist force.

The night before the Kurukshetra war, the Mahabharata recounts, the Kauravas' general Bhishma held a parlay in his tent. He laid down the rules of dharmic combat for both sides, among them-"No one should fight at night".
He would have approved of the military operation to flush out four terrorists at the Pathankot airbase on January 2 this year. The operations halted every night over the course of three days. The black dungaree-clad National Security Guard (NSG) commandos, linked to Ved Vyas' epic through Lord Krishna's discus on their arm patches, had no choice but to abide by Bhishma's dharmic code. They lacked the long-range night vision devices and handheld thermal imagers which would allow them to track the terrorists at night. They did not have the drones that could fly continuously to scan the target area for suspects. There was no command centre from where they could monitor the progress of operations.
Fears of a blue-on-blue incident (what happens when you are killed by friendly fire) haunted them as the 2,200-acre base was packed with air force Garud commandos and Indian army soldiers, forces that had never operated together. Operations resumed in full swing only at daybreak. It took over 200 NSG commandos over 70 hours to completely sanitise the airbase, delays which ended up having political and diplomatic repercussions. The conduct of the operations called into question National Security Adviser Ajit Doval's January 1 decision to send the NSG into the airbase. Senior army officials questioned whether the NSG was suited for the task at hand. They felt that the local infantry units could have terminated the operations far quicker and more efficiently. It took an unprecedented January 9 visit to the airbase by Prime Minister Narendra Modi to dispel doubts about a failure of coordination and pronounce the operation a success. The larger question of whether the NSG is fit for purpose remained unanswered in the high wattage operation.
A Rs 1,400-crore modernisation plan that would have transformed it into a modern fighting force by 2017, remains a pipe dream. The NSG is a force hollowed out by years of neglect, lurching from one crises to another. The road to Pathankot started in Mumbai on November 26, 2008, a far more grievous terrorist attack which exposed the vulnerabilities of a premier counter terrorist force.
All that the NSG has acquired for its commandos since then are sniper rifles, submachine guns and pistols. The force multiplier high tech gear is still stuck in paperbound proposals. In Pathankot, for instance, the force had to rely on circling IAF Mi-35 gunships, which used their thermal imagers on the 2200-acre base to locate the terrorists. Fast moving targets, picked up by the helicopters in the elephant grass around the base often, turned out to be wild boar. The NSG borrowed armoured vehicles from local army units to undertake combing operations. They had no command post from where officers could direct operations. It was an unusual combination of jungle warfare operations and what the military calls fighting in built-up areas.
"We were fortunate that we could prevent the terrorists from reaching the technical area," says an officer who participated in the operations. What aided the security forces was luck, an incredible fightback from a Defence Service Corps sentry, Honorary Captain Fateh Singh, who grappled with the terrorists and killed one of them, the incompetence of the terrorists who stopped to shoot up vehicles in the IAF motor transport pool, losing sight of their prime objective-the fighter aircraft and gunships parked in the technical area. "In the next attack," the officer says, "we may not be as lucky." A home ministry spokesperson did not respond to an India Today questionnaire.

he blind cats
The NSG is the home ministry's premier strike force with a special mandate for handling terror or hijack situations and to deal with multifarious operational situations. Yet, the appalling neglect of this weapon of last resort over the years is eclipsed only by the Indian Air Force's spectacular ineptitude in protecting its frontline airbase from terrorist attack. At Pathankot, terrorists had easily scaled a 10-feet high wall and remained hidden in the high grass for a day before they ventured out to attack their primary targets-service personnel and parked aircraft, only to be halted by air force commandos, army and the NSG.
The NSG does not lack in physical standards, marksmanship or pay and allowances-commandos run 24-kilometre speed marches with 20-kg backpacks, and fire, on an average, 60 rounds a day. It is a lucrative career. They get 25 per cent of their basic pay as 'commando allowance'.
Yet, the force continues to be bedevilled by a shortage of cuttingedge equipment and training aids. The NSG announced its arrival to the world in a surgically precise operation, just four years after they had been raised in 1984 following the disastrous storming of the Golden Temple by the Indian Army. Operation Black Thunder, in May 1988, ended with 41 militants being shot dead inside the Golden Temple by snipers, with zero casualties. The technological edge was gradually whittled away over the years, from Akshardham in 2002 and finally Mumbai in 2008 where the NSG's chronic shortages came to the fore as they battled eight highly motivated Lashkar-e-Taiba terrorists in three parallel sieges of two five-star hotels and a Jewish centre in Mumbai. The commandos' civilian Motorola handsets ran out of battery charge, they lacked critical protection gear like helmets and ballistic shields and ineffective night vision devices. What was worse, commanders even lost contact with their men.
The complex 48-hour-long NSG operation in Mumbai led to some soul searching. "The force is not special," a veteran of the 26/11 attacks said in a presentation to home ministry bureaucrats, "it is just a force."





In the months that followed the 26/11 attacks, the NSG prepared a list of transformative requirements. India Today accessed a copy of this distilled wisdom, the home ministry's August 2012 document (Home Ministry No.IV-17014/55/2005-Prov-I ) which laid out a comprehensive roadmap for the NSG. It listed 240 major and minor items of equipment to be acquired over five years at a cost of over Rs 1,400 crore.
Since "time was of the essence in all NSG commando operations, an all-weather operating capability and technological interpolation was inevitable," the MHA paper wrote. The plan advocated a "real time sensor shoot grid, data assimilation and analysis decision making centre of action and for equipping the force with latest equipment, weaponry and communication capabilities".
To a casual observer, this would have appeared a mere list of expensive toys but NSG officers describe it as a building up of capabilities that would allow them to prevail over terrorists. All commandos would be seamlessly linked through voice and video links with GPS-equipped wearable computers and body cameras and portable satellite phones. Sitting in a special mobile command post, a commander would know the location of all his commandos. Screens on his console would relay what his men were seeing in real time. A Sniper Coordination System would tell him the location of all his shooters and also feed the images back from their scopes. Drones and portable aerostats would give him continuous coverage of the battlefield. Vision and thermal image fusion cameras would be able to tell them the difference between man and animal. The equipment to be procured would revive three atrophied arms of the force-the Electronic Support Group, the Technical Support Group and the Special Weapons Squad, responsible for setting up command and control and providing firepower for the force.
After nearly two years of consultations, the UPA government approved a list of 200 items in the NSG modernisation plan for over Rs 1,400 crore. The five-year programme would equip the force with advanced radios, long-range sensors, thermal imagers, portable radars. Eight years later, only a handful of items on the list-sniper rifles and submachine guns and one armoured truck-have been purchased. The NSG's website shows at least 27 items-shotguns, door-breaching grenades, semi-automatic sniper rifles, hostage negotiation communication sets, wall contact microphones meant to snoop in on rooms- remain in the nascent Request for Information (RFI) stage. At the current rate of acquisition, it will take the NSG at least five years to acquire the equipment.
The fault in its DNA
At the heart of the NSG's worries is the fact that it is a deputationist force. This means it lacks permanent cadre of its own. Army personnel come into the NSG on a two-year deputation, paramilitary personnel serve five-year deputations. This transient character of the force has killed its institutional memory. The seeds of the NSG's neglect perhaps lie in the MHA's modernisation plan itself. The document terms it as a "Central Armed Police Force", a nomenclature that effectively spells death for the special force. The NSG's upgradation has remained largely paper-bound because of frequent changes at the top.

The Director-General (D-G), based at NSG headquarters near Delhi airport, heads the provisioning and procurement units. Since 26/11, the NSG has changed six D-Gs, each of whom has served for an average of 14 months. "It takes six months for one to understand the process. By the time he decides, it is time to go," says an NSG official.
"The UK's elite SAS is also a deputationist force but retains a 25-per cent permanent component. Indian army commandos spend over 10 years in their special forces battalions," says Major General V.K. Datta (retired), who took part in Operation Black Thunder in 1988. Proposals to create a similar permanent component for the NSG have failed to see the light of day.
The NSG was to operate in concert with the Special Rangers Group (SRG), three battalions of nearly 1,000 commandos each, all drawn from the paramilitary forces. The SRG were to provide the cordon around sieges but are never available for the task because nearly two-thirds of these SRG battalions are deployed for VVIP security. At Pathankot, the NSG deployed an SRG battalion in active operations for the first time in recent years.
Critics argue that the home ministry's post-26/11 decision to expand the force into four other metros-Mumbai, Kolkata, Hyderabad and Chennai-effectively spelled its death knell. At over 10,000 personnel, the NSG is larger than the Indian army's parachute commando forces. Hubs lack equipment like aircraft entry ladder systems which could be used to intervene in case they have to storm hijacked aircraft. "When you expand forces the way NSG has done over the years, you dilute manpower training and equipment," says Lt. General Prakash Chand Katoch (retired), an army special forces officer. He lists the four global truths about special forces: humans are more important than hardware, quality is better than quantity, special forces cannot be mass-produced and they cannot be created after emergencies.
France's elite counter-terrorist force GIGN has just 650 personnel. Germany's GSG-9, which the NSG is modelled after, has just over 200 commandos. The NSG, created as a federal contingency force in an era when police forces were inadequately equipped or ill-trained to handle terrorists, continues to wrestle with shortfalls. It has not even started the process of acquiring helicopters and borrows them from the IAF or the RAW's Aviation Research Centre to train its commandos in slithering operations.
Arvind Ranjan, former NSG D-G, says equipment shortfalls are only a smokescreen that hides graver issues of competence. "What ails the force is the lack of vision, accountability and responsibility on the part of its officers," he says. Insiders say the force has been tardy in fixing most of the equipment in its inventory-key equipment like Total Containment Vessel (TCVs), portable robots and helmet-mounted night vision devices are off-road because their annual maintenance contracts are yet to be drawn up. The NSG base in Manesar still lacks a modern firing range with pop-up targets and a night shooting range. A Rs 6-crore requirement, projected soon after the 26/11 attacks, was never installed because officials squabbled over the specifications.
The NSG's modernisation was part of a major overhaul set into motion by the UPA government. The contours for this were laid out in the NDA-1's landmark Group of Ministers report in 2001 that followed the Kargil Review Committee. The GoM recommended a sweeping overhaul of the internal security apparatus. These reforms began being implemented only after the 26/11 attacks. The UPA lost sight of the home ministry reforms towards the end of its tenure, a worrying drift that has continued under the NDA.
The possibility of more strikes like the ones in Pathankot and Gurdaspur have only increased the chances that the force will be called into action again soon. Terrorists are unlikely to wait for the elite force to emerge from its time warp.

Four, five or six? How many terrorists at Pathankot? Confusion over the number of attackers


Indian intelligence agencies are fairly certain that the Pathankot attack was planned by Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM) chief Maulana Masood Azhar and his brother Abdul Rauf Asghar, the mastermind behind the IC-814 hijack in 1999 that led to Azhar's swap with the passengers. 
Yet, nearly a week after the January 2 terrorist attack on the Pathankot airbase, various government agencies have conflicting reports on the number of attackers, killing six security personnel. So far, bodies of only four terrorists and four AK-47s have been recovered. All of them were believed to be killed on the night of January 2, after a 15-hour firefight. The IB too believes there were four terrorists. But the NSG says it killed two more terrorists on January 3 after firing was reported from an abandoned building in the airbase. Operations ended on January 4 after the NSG demolished the building using an Army armoured personnel carrier.

Bodies of four slain terrorists at Pathankot airbase


On January 12, the NIA said it would issue black corner notices to Interpol to identify the bodies of four dead terrorists. Gurdaspur Superintendent of Police Salwinder Singh, who claimed he had been abducted by "four or five" terrorists on the night of December 31 is now being interrogated by the NIA, which is probing the case. A 10-member NIA team led by a DIG continued search operations in the area of the encounter in Pathankot. IB officials believe there is a possibility that the second team of two terrorists actually fled the Pathankot airbase and have infiltrated into Delhi to disrupt Republic Day celebrations on January 26, prompting a high security alert in the national Capital region. "This second team is possibly the one that abducted and later killed a taxi driver whose vehicle was found on the Katloh bridge over the Ravi river," says an IB official.
There is little doubt, however, that the attackers came from Pakistan, a fact that has put pressure on Islamabad to act against the JeM. On January 9, Pakistan Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif told US Foreign Secretary John Kerry that his government had detained, at least, two suspects in Bahawalpur and Sialkot. Two days later, Pakistani media reported that authorities took Masood Azhar and Abdul Rauf into "protective custody". With India linking Foreign Secretary level talks between the two countries to the progress on the terror investigation, the Pathankot terror attack has become a test case for the peace process.
Follow the writer on Twitter @SandeepUnnithan














Friday 8 January 2016

The blunders of Pathankot

The blunders of Pathankot

Despite the availability of intelligence about an imminent attack, Indian security forces only partly succeeded in foiling the intention of terrorists.

January 6, 2016 | UPDATED 16:51 IST 
Soldiers carry the mortal remains of Garud Commando CPL Gursewak Singh who was killed in the Pathankot attack.
The six fidayeen terrorists who struck at the airbase in Pathankot on January 2 had two specific objectives-to kill military personnel and destroy fighter aircraft and helicopter gunships. The attackers failed in their primary task of destroying aircraft parked in the frontline air force base because they were prevented from reaching the technical area. But a series of lapses by India's security establishment allowed the terrorists to succeed in at least the objective of killing security personnel and prolonging their siege of the airbase. The attack was no bolt from the blue-the security establishment knew about it over a day in advance thanks to the alarm raised by a police officer who had been kidnapped by the terrorists and the monitoring of cellphones stolen from the police officer and his associates. Intercepts of the terrorists' conversations with their Pakistan-based handlers hinted at Pathankot being the target. These leads gave the government adequate time to pre-position forces in the base to anticipate their arrival. The tardy response turned what could have been a spectacular textbook success in the fight against terrorism emanating from Pakistan, into a long-drawn pyrrhic victory evocative of earlier operations.
No lessons learnt
Both fidayeen groups that struck the Indian Air Force base at Pathankot early on January 2 morning crossed into India near Bamiyal, a small Punjab township, which is a well known infiltration point used by drug smugglers and terrorists alike. Waypoints recorded on GPS devices recovered from the three-man suicide squad that attacked a police station in Dinanagar, Gurdaspur district, less than six months ago, on July 27, 2015, have shown that they used the same route to gain entry to India. Clearly, neither the Border Security Force (BSF) nor the Punjab Police chose to imbibe any lasting lessons from Dinanagar. Although in the immediate aftermath of the attack on the police station, Punjab's Police establishment had moved quickly to beef up security: handpicked officers were moved to remote border locations such as Narot Jaimal Singh, and mobile units including CPMF (Central Paramilitary Force) and state police personnel increased night patrols along rural roads as well as the national highway. All that, however, lasted barely three months. Inexplicably, post-October the patrols were scaled down and many of the officers succeeded in having themselves moved out from what they saw as "punishment postings". Senior police officers, now faced with the frightening prospect of another terror strike, are pointing fingers at the "imposing narcotics nexus-local politicians and smugglers" who want to keep easy points of ingress like Bamiyal open.
Delayed response
Early morning on January 1, Salwinder Singh, the superintendent police (headquarters) at Gurdaspur, made frantic calls to the police control room in Pathankot as well as several of his superiors to report that four Pakistani terrorists wearing military fatigues had abducted him. At the time Singh, known to be a highly pampered officer who rarely ever moved without a large security contingent, was inexplicably only accompanied by his cook Madan Gopal and Rajesh Kumar, a jeweler from Pathankot. The officer claimed the terrorists waylaid his private SUV close to midnight outside Koliyan village when they were returning from a local shrine. Singh said the abductors, who took the jeweler along to drive the car, let off the cook and him. Notably, Singh's warning about the presence of fidayeen in the area came in the wake of an earlier December 30 intelligence advisory that was communicated to all Punjab districts. Based on an Intelligence Bureau report, it warned about the possible infiltration bid in the Bamiyal area. Incredibly, despite these obvious pointers, top Punjab Police brass reportedly refused to buy Singh's story. Their scepticism, a senior police officer said, came from Singh's 'reputation'-Singh denies this vehemently. They believed him only after the recovery of the officer's SUV outside Tajpur village (barely 500 metres from the western wall of the IAF station) and a subsequent call from Kumar, who had managed to reach a private hospital despite being stabbed in the neck and left as 'dead' by the terrorists. By then crucial hours had been lost.
Failure to secure the Air Base
Sometime before sunrise on January 1 and around 3:00 am the next morning, when they first engaged the DSC (Defence Security Corps) guards inside, the four fidayeen, possibly by then joined by a second group of two, managed to gain easy entry into the Indian Air Force base in Pathankot. This despite the fact there was more than a fair warning of their imminent arrival and deadly intent. Despite its initial lethargy, by mid-morning on January 1, Punjab Police men fanned out to comb civilian areas including several villages fringing the 2,000 acre airbase. However, the extensive operation that included SWAT (special weapons and tactics) teams failed to track down the Pakistanis. Even more shocking was the fact that even local army units that were in position to protect the airbase failed to accomplish a relatively simple task of securing the perimeter. Much of the job seems to have been left to the DSC guards-re-employed, usually middle-aged former soldiers posted as sentries at airbases and other military installations.
This is clearly indicated by the fact that they were the first to engage the fidayeen, whose presence, senior IAF officers say, had already been detected via helicopter-borne thermal imaging. "We were very short on manpower," one of the IAF's Garud commandos who was sent in to take on the terrorists after three DSC men were killed on Day One of the four-day standoff, told india today on January 4.
Deployment of the NSG
Days before the Pathankot strike, the National Security Guard (NSG) had been put on high alert. The NSG's 51 Special Action Group (SAG) that comprised entirely of army personnel had moved out of its base in Manesar, Haryana, into the Sudarshan complex, a facility constructed after the 26/11 attacks on the outskirts of the Indira Gandhi International airport. Intelligence inputs had warned of possible terror strikes on New Year's eve on installations in and around Delhi. Commandos in plainclothes milled around a row of malls in south Delhi studying their interiors and exits. On January 1, two NSG units-the 51 SAG and the 11 Special Rangers Group comprising over 200 commandos-were airlifted to the Pathankot airbase when the infiltration by the terrorists and their motive to strike at the airbase became known. Government officials defend the choice of deploying the NSG. They feared a hostage situation. The army was in the loop on the operation and sent a brigade in to secure the perimeter of the airbase.
When the attack began on January 2, it became evident that the NSG, a specialist hostage rescue and intervention force, might not have been the best choice for the operation. Experts say the NSG is an intervention force trained and tasked to handle a crisis, not to protect an airbase or ambush terrorists before they arrived. The task of neutralising the terrorists over such a large area required large numbers of soldiers and would have been done far more efficiently by the army infantry units familiar with the terrain. Besides two infantry division in Pathankot with over 15,000 soldiers each, there were two other divisions, in Jammu and Amritsar which could have been brought in for the manpower-intensive clearing operations. Three battle-hardened special forces units of the Indian Army's parachute regiment-4 and 9 Para-SF units in Udhampur just over 100 km away and the 1 Para-SF in Nahan, 300 kilometres away. All these units have been deployed for over a decade to fight J&K militants. Only 1 Para, however, was called in to support the NSG.
Lack of coordination
Joint operations are anathema to the Indian security agencies that are comfortable operating in their own silos. This painful lesson was learned during the 26/11 terror attack in Mumbai when multiple forces-the Mumbai Police, CRPF, Marine Commandos, the Indian Army and the NSG failed to combine forces to tackle terrorists at multiple locations, especially in the initial hours of the attack. This problem could have been surmounted by putting a single officer in charge of all the forces and by issuing him clear directives.
Army mine-protected vehicles after the operation at the Pathankot airbase.

Army mine-protected vehicles after the operation at the Pathankot airbase. Photo: Prabhjot Gill

Neither of this seems to have been done at Pathankot where multiple agencies-the IAF, the Punjab Police, the army and the NSG were at work, each answering to their own superiors. At a January 5 press conference in Pathankot, Defence Minister Manohar Parrikar brushed aside criticism over the deployment of the NSG as the lead force by arguing that over 50 per cent of the force (the SAG) comprised of army personnel. He did not, however, mention that the NSG is a Central Armed Paramilitary Force under the home ministry with a separate chain of command under an IPS officer. Parrikar also mentioned the army, air force and NSG needed to undertake 'joint training' hinting at the lacunae in coordination.
'Mission accomplished' too soon
National Security Adviser Ajit Doval who chaired the vital January 1 meeting which resulted in the NSG and army deployments, termed the operation a success. "As a counter-terrorism response, it is a highly successful operation for which our Army, Air Force, NSG and police, which played a vital role need to be complimented," he told the media in Delhi. Yet by the evening of January 2, security forces had already concluded operations were over when the fourth terrorist was killed. Home Minister Rajnath Singh congratulated security forces for killing 'five militants' that evening but deleted his tweet soon after. This may have lulled security forces into a false sense of complacency that continued at least until the following morning when gunfire by the two terrorists signaled a resumption of the siege. Security forces now believe two teams of terrorists reached the airbase using different routes. While one team engaged the security forces, the other one rested, opening fire on the forces the following day. It took over a day to neutralise them. This modus operandi, the first in recent years, revived memories of a grievous security lapse in 2003, when senior army officers visited the site of a suicide attack by fidayeen militants in Jammu. They had assumed that the operation was over but had not accounted for a hidden fidayeen militant who opened fire, killing a brigadier and wounding the Northern Army commander Lt General Hari Prasad.
Death of the NSG officer
A tragic turning point in the Pathankot operation came on the afternoon of January 3, when a grenade blast killed Lt Colonel Niranjan Kumar, the Commanding Officer of the NSG's Bomb Disposal Company (BDC). Three other personnel of his unit were injured in the blast. The officer was believed to have been disposing explosives carried by the terrorists when the grenade went off. The most senior NSG officer to die in an operation, Lt Colonel Kumar's death raises questions about whether the force was adequately equipped to carry out the task. This particularly as all security forces, the NSG and army included, have a 'Render Safe Procedure' to deal with corpses-to assume they are always booby trapped with explosives. Among the simplest and deadliest ambushes is to pull the pin out of a grenade and keep it under a corpse. The weight of the body depresses the grenade's safety lever. Moving the body triggers the grenade. This is why security personnel are instructed to move bodies from a safe distance using hooked sticks and ropes or wearing a full bomb suit while doing so. Larger explosives are usually handled by a Remotely Operated Vehicle (ROV), a tracked robot with a manoeuverable claw that can be controlled from half-a-kilometre away. It is not clear whether the NSG's bomb disposal unit, which travelled to Pathankot from Delhi, took all its equipment along. One of several unanswered questions about the operation.
Follow the writers on Twitter
@SandeepUnnithan
@Asit Jolly

Tuesday 5 January 2016

Media blackout of Pathankot a lesson learned from 26/11

Media blackout of Pathankot attack a lesson learned from 26/11

By not providing timely updates of the attack, the government did not fill the information gap.

 |  3-minute read |   05-01-2016
  • 732
    Total Shares
Late into the night of November 26, 2008 when ten terrorists were well into their slaughter of Mumbai’s hapless civilians, one of their handlers remotely steering the massacre from a control room in Karachi had an epiphany. The handler learned of several potential high-profile hostages. “There are three ministers and secretary of the cabinet in your hotel,” he told terrorists rampaging through the Taj Mahal hotel. “We don’t know in which room…find those persons and you will get anything you want from India…”
And just how did this handler sitting nearly a thousand kilometres away, know this? Just hours before, several Indian TV channels broadcast phone-ins with MPs trapped in the Taj. Speaking with victims trapped in a terrorist-infested hotel might have sounded like journalistic due diligence in the din of explosions and gunfire. Broadcasting the conversation live, however, amounted to culpable homicide.
As the first group of hotel guests tip-toed out of their sanctuary at the Chambers in the early hours of November 27, they were set upon by the four terrorists. Fifteen guests and hotel staff were gunned down. The slaughter stopped only when Indian Navy’s Marine Commandos arrived and engaged terrorists in a firefight. The bloody link between the telecast and the civilian deaths was deduced only after intercepts of the conversation were publicised by the Mumbai police weeks after the attacks. Which possibly explained the egregious lapse on November 28-- TV cameras broadcast live footage of an IAF helicopter air dropping commandos on to Nariman House.
The experienced terrorist handlers in Karachi were possibly delighted at this windfall. Their control room echoing with the breathless coverage from Indian TV stations, they precisely instructed how the terrorists were to face the NSG commandos rapelling from the helicopters. One commando, Havaldar Gajender Singh, was killed as he entered a room fortified by the terrorists. TV channels had, once again, unwittingly turned into CCTV cameras for terrorists.
That terrorists use the media to achieve their primary objective of waging psychological warfare is a truism and researchers have weighed in on how live coverage has impacted on their actions.
Jerrold Post, author of The Mind of a Terrorist, calls terrorism “a kind of psychological warfare waged through the media.” Which means that while we know terrorists influence the media, media coverage also influences terrorists. In a 2013 interview to buzzfeed.com, Post cites an early instance of this: the 1977 takeover of the B’nai B’rith International headquarters in Washington, DC — when media outlets began reporting that some hostages had escaped and were sending food and water to the other hostages. The terrorists, Post says, saw the reports and recaptured the hostages.
In the fast-moving 24x7 news environment of the 21st century when easily available tools like satellite phones allow masterminds to remotely control strikes and assess the impact of their actions, restrained coverage of ongoing operations are critical. Mumbai 26/11 was an example of unrestrained coverage actually worsening a crisis and reason why the set of self-regulation guidelines released by India’s News Broadcasters Association on December 18, 2008, completely banned live TV coverage of terrorist attacks.
News channels could not reveal the number of hostages or their identity during an ongoing terrorist attack nor show the victims. The import of these guidelines, largely followed by the media since 26/11 have made timely briefings by government spokespersons that much more important. This has not happened so far. The initial hours of the Pathankot terror attack were followed by deafening silence from the defence ministry, later, a premature ‘mission accomplished’ announcement from Home Minister Rajnath Singh, followed by a revolving door of spokespersons from the home ministry and the IAF.
This was an eerie repeat of the three-day long 26/11 attacks in Mumbai where multiple officials produced an echo chamber of facts and narratives. When defence minister Manohar Parrikar finally briefed the media at the Pathankot air force station on January 5, it was over three days after the attack had started.