The Prince of Denmark would have envied the Indian dilemma. Hamlet, a mere creature of Shakespeare’s vivid imagination, quickly played out his own compulsions in five, fulsome acts, then departed the scene in a fit of existentialist literature. Modern India, compulsively democratic and tempted by visions of grandeur, is hardly as lucky. It teeters today on the cusp of being and anonymity, of playing a big power role in the shifting sands of Mesopotamia — or forever accused of carrying the white man’s burden in true sola-topi style.

To be or not to be, that is the question for New Delhi. To send 20,000 highly professional combat troops to salvage the depressing after-effects of the unjust and immoral war unleashed by the US-led coalition forces in Iraq. Or to help remake a nation in the heart of Arabia in its image, by first summoning up the brotherhood of brown men that live in this part of the world.

The first, the government clearly recognises, is a latter-day recipe for neo-colonialism. The latter, with all its opportunities to transform Iraqi anger and sullenness into creative, nationalist urges, could actually unleash a groundswell of democracy the Gulf-Middle East-West Asia really deserves.

INDIA ABROAD

SINCE 1950, when soldiers boarded an aircraft for war-torn Korea, India has participated in 36 UN peacekeeping missions, fielding nearly 65,000 troops and counting 108 killed in action. From South-East Asia to Africa and Europe, the Indian Army has established its reputation as a professionally trained, disciplined, motivated and well-equipped force, ready to go where other armies fear to tread.

In many ways, peacekeeping has been a learning process for the army. The individual valour of Capt G S Salaria, who died fighting Katangtse renegades in Congo in 1961 is still remembered, as is his posthumous Param Vir Chakra. As an institution, the army has gained too, appreciating the virtues of a cohesive force, adequate equipment, camaraderie with other participating nations as also local support.

India’s major peacekeeping operations under the UN’s blue helmet include:

» UNNNRC Korea , 1950: 6000 personnel» UNMIC Indo-China, 1954: 7000 personnel» ONUC Congo, 1960-64: 12,000 personnel» UNIFIL Lebanon, 1998 till date: 5000 personnel» UNIKOM Iraq/Kuwait, 1991: 66 personnel» UNSOM II Somalia, 1992-94: 7000 personnel» UNAMSIL Sierra Leone, 1999-2001: 4765 personnel» UNMEE Ethiopia-Eritrea, 2001 till date : 3753 personnel

India’s sectoral commander, Feith said, would hold his own in Kurdistan, alongside the commanders of the other four zones, three of them run by themselves and the British, and the last a hotch-potch of Australians and Pakistanis and anyone else who clamoured to do the bidding of the world’s only remaining superpower.

Surely, India was tempted. The idea of flying the flag alongside these big powers whetted the appetite. The UN did its bit by providing a fig-leaf called UN Security Council resolution 1483, which called upon member states to provide men and material to assist in the humanitarian effort to rebuild Iraq. The catch was that those who provided aid outside the humanitarian mission would be categorised as being part of the ‘‘occupying powers’’ label that had so far stuck hard and fast to the US-UK combine.

The Americans pushed India to make up its mind, without even darkly implying that the consequences of refusal could be dangerous. Deadlines were dangled like Damocles’ swords. And yet as New Delhi wound itself up into a national debate, like a frenzied roller-coaster, the deadlines kept getting pushed back. Again and again.

What monitoring northern Iraq will entail

UNCLE Sam wants India to keep the peace in a part of northern Iraq, a vast swathe of land extending from the plains of ancient Mesopotemia to the mountains of southern Turkey. It is flanked by Syria and Iran, potential targets of the American war on terror. Northern Iraq is also part of the unfinished business of World War I, waiting for a fair deal since the dismantling of the Ottoman empire that once ruled all three provinces — Basra in the south, Baghdad in the centre and Mosul up north — that comprise modern Iraq. Northern Iraq is home to the Kurds, a people of central Asian stock oppressed by Arabs for decades. Demand for independence or at least functional autonomy is high, and extends to Kurdish regions in Turkey. The Turkomen minority — ethnically linked to the Turks — have been set up against the Kurds by Ankara. A prize sought by all are the old fields of Kirkuk, among the richest in the world. It is believed the Indian government has already asked Turkey about the feasibility of sealing its border with Iraq. There’s one other problem. Not all Iraqi Shias are pro-Iran but those who are could use the porous border in northern Iraq. For India, a trusted friend of Iran, it would be a tough act balancing Teheran’s alarms and Washington’s apprehensions.

Third, Indian soldiers happened to be brown or black in colour, unlike the largely white boys from the West who fought the war in Iraq. (Unhappily, even the ‘‘new Europeans’’ like the Polish who had volunteered their services, were mostly a salmon pink.) Fourth, there was hardly any other army in the world save the Chinese, which had the national resilience to handle the return of bodybags.

Fifth, India knew Iraq like few other non-Arab nations did. Its army had trained Saddam Hussein’s soldiers. Its teachers had taught in Iraq’s colleges. The descendants of the Nawab of Avadh had voluntarily chosen to emigrate after the loss of Lucknow in the 1857 mutiny and live in the shadow of Imam Hussein and his son’s shrines in Karbala and Najaf.

Still, as India contemplates its entry on the world stage — and attempts to rewrite the ‘‘to be or not to be’’ line — other stars seem to be lighting up the Arab sky. Like the idea of a field hospital in either Najaf or Diwaniya, packed with Indian doctors of many specialities and both genders. Interestingly, the hospital will be run in collaboration with Jordan, a neighbour of Iraq, which also happily puts paid to the idea that the Indians are ‘‘unwelcome’’ foreigners.

Meanwhile, New Delhi has tasked the US ‘‘occupiers’’ with the perfect compromise formula that will enable it to send its own troops to Mesopotamia: transform the US-UK Provisional administration into a real Iraqi Interim Authority packed with real Iraqi representatives.

These Iraqis could then invite New Delhi to send both civilians and soldiers. While Indian combat troops kept the peace, Indian lawyers and teachers and constitutional experts and sanitation and water engineers could help with circling the squares. And make Iraq more than a sum of its parts.

Iraq occupies army

Saikat Datta

Every year, gentleman cadets at the Indian Military Academy (IMA), Dehradun, ceremonially march through the hallowed portals of Chetwode Hall to become officers in the Indian Army. At any given graduation parade, a small band of foreign cadets keep the strapping young Indians company. In the past, nostalgia buffs recall, a large number of the foreigners were Iraqis.

The Indian army is grappling with an existential dilemma. As the government considers sending combat troops to Iraq, army veterans cannot but remember the scores of Iraqi officers who were trained at the IMA. Then they were citizens of a friendly nation, the cream of Saddam Hussein’s army. Today, these officers could well be leading rogue Iraqi bands. They could potentially get into a shooting match with Indian peacekeeping troops. It would be both piquant — and tragic.

Ironically it is India’s links with the former Iraqi army that the United States seeks to draw upon. It sees Indian soldiers as ideal participants in the international stabilisation force.

The Indian army has other worries too. There is the issue of serving in a force not sanctioned by the UN. Since 1947, operating under the UN flag has been central to most Indian peace-keeping missions (see accompanying story).

This meant rules of engagement would adhere to the principles of the UN charter, would be under UN command. There was the flexibility of suspending operations if these became inconsistent with the UN’s mandate. As such, Army HQ had a clear idea about objectives and possible duration of the mission. An exit strategy could be pre-determined.

Even on the rare occasion when Indian troops went abroad without a UN sanction — Sri Lanka, 1987, Maldives, 1988 — they did so on invitation from the host government.

Iraq will be just so different. For a start, what shape will a command and control structure for Indian troops take? Army HQ has stated in no uncertain terms that its troops will serve only under the Indian flag. ‘‘Command control must not be under the Pentagon or the White House for that matter,’’ says Lt Gen (retd) Satish Nambiar, force commander of the UN-led troops in the former Yugoslavia in 1992.

The Indian government has been offered part of the rebellious Kurdish-dominated northern Iraq for peacekeeping. Army HQ would prefer being deployed in an area where chances of firing upon locals are minimal. Neither does it want to get drawn into a vicious counter-insurgency operation, what one critic calls ‘‘doing the dirty work for the Americans’’.

It is understood that Army HQ, during its deliberations with the government, has suggested that a rotational command be set up. It would involve commanders from other countries contributing to the stabilisation force. While tactical command would remain with the rotational command, it could interface with the US Central Command and the provisional administration in Baghdad.

Money is another key factor. The initial cost of moving a division (around 10,000 men) is estimated at upwards of Rs 300 crore. Certainly, the US has not committed to picking up the bill.

Also, serving under the UN’s blue helmet earns jawans $ 1,000 a month, over and above their Indian salary. Will Mission Iraq be as generous? South Block sources warn costs could spiral as the logistics of sustaining such an operation are worked out.

Finally, there is the question of morale. India has lost 108 soldiers in 36 UN peacekeeping missions since 1950. In comparison, Operation Vijay (Kargil, 1999) saw 500 casualties and Operation Pawan (Sri Lanka, 1987) 1,400. In a sense, Iraq is not India’s war. How will the country react to bodybags from there?

Finally, the 10-month long Operation Parakram has left behind a weary army, mobilised on the borders through the merciless summer of 2002. The war on terror in Jammu and Kashmir also stretches resources. The legacy of the Nadimarg massacre has meant a corps from the Eastern Command being deployed in the Kashmir valley.

Some argue serving alongside US and British troops will give the Indian army vital experience. Military brass scoff at the idea. The experience can be as easily gained during combined exercises, they say.

In the end the decision to send men to Iraq is a political one. Wherever the government tells it to go, the Indian army, disciplined and professional, will go. Nevertheless, at Army HQ that one question still niggles: is it worth sending 20,000 troops for a mission so steeped in ambiguities?